Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. I was helpless. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. ’ Roding blinked. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them. G.
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