“I hope nothing is wrong. ” “I can spare it,” Anna answered suavely. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. since the beginning. Jack had been touched in the morning, but he was now completely prostrated. ” “Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same.
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