” “It is over for now,” he answered, “but I cannot bear to think that you are subject to this sort of thing. Anna admitted the fact. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees.
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