She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room. Anna found herself next Sydney Courtlaw, with his friend close at hand.
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