She took up a book and threw it down again. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar.
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