In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. A skeleton was propped against the mantelpiece. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. ” Anna looked for a moment steadily at her sister, whose face was still averted.
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