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The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. 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. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. "But, we'll soon see.
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