He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. . But one was clearly the goddess among them, her face hidden, her body seeming to call out to me to possess it at once. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. “I don’t see at all how you can be managing,” said Miss Stanley, and Ann Veronica hastened to reply, “I do on very little.
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