‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass.
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