Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. She glared at him with satisfaction. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. ” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. "I have dreamed that I shall see him before I die," she rejoined.
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