She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. ’ The command was accompanied by an increase of pressure on the wrist he held. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said.
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