She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. "You mistake,—you are mine. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. We men are like children. " "Still, you forgot something. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though.
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