I might have known it. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. “Your name, I believe, is——” “Pellissier,” Anna answered. If only this man had been her father! The world would have meant nothing; the island would have been wide enough. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek.
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