"When I am dead you will learn it. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. To call yourself ‘Alcide’! Your hair, your gestures, your voice, all mine! Oh, how dared you do it?” “You must not forget,” Anna said calmly, “that it is necessary for me also—to live. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little.
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