. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. But I don't look for peace on this side the grave. “It was a phase,” she said. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable.
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