"How long shall I be here?" he asked. 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. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. He felt the first sting of the whip. "Put it under my pillow," he said.
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