B. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. To settle things, you know. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate.
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