" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. \" The thick girl with the blue- black hair spat. ” “It might become one,” he answered. ” “Then why,” Anna asked quietly, “do you run away? It is not like you. ‘It is pretty. Yes, of course. But your role would have been to go about saying, ‘I beg your pardon’ in a reproving tone to things you understood quite well in your heart and saw no harm in. He relayed many details of the location and the beautiful rivers of her home, a subject she never tired of. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived.
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