By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. It was she—— Anna’s nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly clutching at the table for support. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk.
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