And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. Manning. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly.
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