When first you left your home you had no idea that I was the hidden impulse. She looked around her. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. “Do I understand you then to refuse my offer?” he asked Anna. “We played at love-making in Paris.
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