“He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered calmly. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him.
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