Salvation. Every time you mention the father, she turns into marble. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. “So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray.
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