“You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers.
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