It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. ” 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. “Is there any urgency?” The doctor bent over his patient, who seemed to have fallen asleep. " "There you're wrong, Mr. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. . A big breakfast is healthier anyway, so they say. You will find it somewhere in that book. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. ” It did begin to fall into place together.
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