“I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. The major hailed him with a show of relief. And what did she do? Not only did she cut his hand in her rage, but she refused to let him help her, and then she ran away from him.
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