Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. His suspicions at first fell upon you. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. .
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