She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. " "It is," answered Wood. A feeling of inexplicable awe crept over the carpenter as the sounds died away. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog.
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