Anna was unimpressed. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. Here and there, a rectangular patch, darker than the rest, showed that some had been removed. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. They are very good people, you know.
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