He was heartily thankful for it. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. Anna turned deliberately away from the bedside. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. " "Not in the least," replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath the table; "there's my staff.
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