Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear.
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