Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John. Manning, and that her aunt focussed a brightly tactful disregard upon this throughout the meal. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. "Not proud in the least, I declare. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and baffling as the sea in doldrums. Little woman, you have been brave enough before.
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