Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. We shall never have an heir, you and I! My family is crumbling; all of my brothers are dead. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. ’ ‘Not if you want one of good family, no,’ he agreed mildly. For a time I didn't know we'd ever find you.
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