133 “TRY ME!” He yelled, his voice booming into the cacophony beyond the walls. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. But perhaps if people didn’t like clear, bright, healthy eyes—which is biologically understandable—they couldn’t like precious stones. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. “I did,” Anna answered. It was horrible, but she must do it.
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