‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. ‘No, I don’t see much future in pursuing her down this passage. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Posts were offered to all who chose to accept them.
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