” “You are very unbelieving,” Anna said coldly. I have never loved you. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. I’m sorry. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner.
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