. “Not to-night,” she said. Only you won’t let me exist!” Mr. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory.
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