Her voice was weak and flat. "What has delayed you?" demanded the knight impatiently. Anna went out. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor. She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves.
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