’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. This is your moment. ‘You do not dare look in my clothes. Keep it! Keep it!” Part 6 They walked a long way that afternoon.
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