” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. She found she could do her microscope work all the better for being in love. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. . .
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