” 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. So I set out to find you, even if it cost ten times sixteen thousand. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig.
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