They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. This is part of a dream— some evil fancy. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. Gosse sneered.
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