At this gate two paths meet. Not wisely but too well. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. There were two of them. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you.
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