She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. I was always told my mother died the day I was born.
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