. “I’ve tried to make words tell it. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. She went to her own table and sat down. We are not altogether strangers, are we? I feel that under the circumstances I have the right to offer you my advice, and if necessary my help. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me.
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