"Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. Anna, with her marvellous capacity for enjoyment, ate cakes and laughed, and forgot that she had had tea an hour or so ago at an A. She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self.
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