The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before.
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