I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it. ” “I may come a little way, then?” he begged. ” “Act two,” she continued. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. ” “Thank you,” Anna answered coldly. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death.
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