“Such was Anoush’s beauty that with one glimpse Farhat decided that he would spend his life building a castle to match her loveliness. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. “You need a reason. “Have you not heard?” she said. “Now you look happy. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. ” “I don’t mind knowing,” said Ann Veronica. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed.
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