” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. “John, we should be getting out of here. “Um, okay.
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