“It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. The delay was only momentary. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. He uttered her name and his excitement grew when he did not feel a bra. I want to be myself. It was a second reminder that against her claim to go free and untrammelled there was a case to be made, that after all it was true that a girl does not go alone in the world unchallenged, nor ever has gone freely alone in the world, that evil walks abroad and dangers, and petty insults more irritating than dangers, lurk.
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