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“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. Chapter VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS “Anna!” Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. ‘I am done, Gérard. I must have something in hand. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. ’ ‘How could he when he didn’t even handle it himself? Went off, I told you, and left it all to me. 1.
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