Anna, do you not see that the Countess is sitting alone?” She rose, and flashed a quick smile upon Ennison behind her husband’s back. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. They did not want her. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy.
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