Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. ” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. But it would serve. You will make her suffer. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head.
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