“Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. She had set out to get a beautiful life, a free, untrammelled life, self-development, without counting the cost either for herself or others. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. Or run me through. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black.
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