He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather. 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 can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart.
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