Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. “Will you tell me what all this is about?” said Capes. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun.
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