” Anna glanced towards her sister, but the latter avoided her eyes. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. "Any price was better than your head. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. ” She laughed. “So is Mr. “You poor little girl!” he cried. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears.
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