I'm a poor nurse. ” Anna nodded. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. ” Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse.
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