But one day he came to me. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. She is in Wild's power. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside.
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