“Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. She pushed. ” They hesitated. ” “I like the mystical way,” she said. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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