Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. “I think that I know very well what I am saying,” she answered. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. She began to tremble violently. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely.
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