Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. The poor fellow's half smothered. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside.
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