She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to leave with Michelle’s. He would see this sister. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly.
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