She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or died. ” “Not in the least,” Anna answered calmly.
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