After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. Anna thrust hers into her pocket unopened, and for the first time left the house without a smile upon her face. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. How dreary it all looks. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway.
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