He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it. ” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. The theme was a masquerade. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience.
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