He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. Anna, in her strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful. “The bravest of us have joints in our armour. Rank ingratitude, I call it. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground; others were unroofed; the leads on the churches were ripped off, and "shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment.
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