Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. ” Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill before Anna. “Not a bit. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. One must be on guard.
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