She was the High Priestess. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. “Which is Mr.
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