They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time. Then he took the pulse. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. He opened his eyes, protestingly, and beheld the realization of his dream.
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