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“And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. I was his wife. Submission to the inevitable carried her through the circumstances of her appearance before the magistrate. “Of course!” he said. “They mould one insensibly. “Well?” “I don’t care a rap for all these things. ” Anna had suddenly stiffened. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian.
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