It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. She had expected a love story; and love was totally absent. That is why I called myself Anna. “Bother it all!” she swore. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. " "And loving me, you fought me, avoided all my traps! I'm glad I've been so unhappy. But she was not to be tempted. ’ ‘In a somewhat roundabout fashion, if you ask me,’ came in a mutter from her old nurse, very much in her usual style.
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