But I have remembered the horse and have asked this sergeant that a soldier fetch him. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. For so far she had kept it uncashed. I have an idea that you are in some sort of trouble.
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