You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. Sheppard towards an appalling object in one corner. “After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time.
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