Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. Anna leaned back with half closed eyes. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. He would go there. Everywhere there are limitations. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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