“Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. " "Mr. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Miraculously, her schoolmates were so upswept in their own summer planning that they had no time to interrogate her.
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