” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import. The thought of going back!—the thought of the unknown out there!—" with a tragic gesture toward the east. .
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