Mr. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. "Let it pass. ’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. ” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. “I refuse.
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