Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. "To-night you shall be my wedded wife. "I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan. She paused. “I love your sister.
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