I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. Come, make yourself scarce.
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