” “I am going to pack my bag,” Anna answered. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. ' He muttered it continually. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. What is done cannot be undone. “Why don’t they wait?” he added. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture.
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