He brought home a few waverers to talk to them where they had no chance of getting away. “I am not sure,” Anna answered. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly. 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.
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