But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. She realized in a moment what had happened. "Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself.
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