‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. Your disobedience be upon your own head. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts.
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