His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. 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. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand.
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