And yet—Wait a little, you’d better have every bit of it. She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Mr. 1. “I will be off,” she declared. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster.
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