“If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. “You are coming right out into life—facing it all. “So Mr. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. I don’t defend it. Do you know, I envy you.
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