Anna raised her eyes. Looking for something, or someone, probably. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. Horrible details recurred to her.
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