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“His back was towards me,” Anna said. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Listen. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. Twenty guineas, mind. " He did not reply. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture.
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