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Luckily, she was bereft of consciousness, and was thus spared the additional misery of witnessing what afterwards befell him. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. I want to shout! I want to sing! I am glad! I am glad to be alive because you are alive! I am glad to be a woman because you are a man! I am glad! I am glad! I am glad! I thank God for life and you. She went about, intentlooking and self-possessed, trim and fine, concealing her emotions whatever they were, as the realities of her position opened out before her. ” “No. To this day he and every one else thinks that he married Anna.
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