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“Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. “So you come from Anna, do you?” she remarked. She was quite assured that she would never see him again. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions.
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