Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other.
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