While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. ” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. . My nerves were in rags. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. ‘Not yet, madame. She stepped backwards.
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