“Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. ” “You came to tell me this?” “I came for you,” he declared fiercely.
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