” Anna laughed, gave in and with deft fingers created order out of chaos. I overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack of finish, the crudeness of your drawing. That old chap has a remarkable range in reading. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. ” Mrs. ’ ‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham.
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