Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. He rested his brow on his hand and conveyed magnificent tragedy by his pose. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient.
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