" This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. How many ends had he? Well, she must cease to trouble herself for this imbecile, whom it would give her very much pleasure to shoot.
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