John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. By the will of Mr. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him.
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