“I don’t see why not,” he answered. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr. " Gently she thrust Ruth aside.
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