‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. ” “On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small boarding-house where I was stopping. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind.
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