It comes over the mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. "And, may I be cursed if I ever did anything in my whole life which gave me so much satisfaction. I would sooner see you in a ’bus again. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject.
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