“I liked him, and I never undeceived him. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. ” “You love—Anna?” she exclaimed. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case.
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