I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. He made Hong-Kong at dusk: wet, hungry, and a bit groggy for the want of sleep; but he was in no wise discouraged. I wish that it worked. Before her stretched blank spaces, dotted with running people coming toward her, and below them railings and a statue. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. . . . . There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers.
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