“My word holds,” she said. Anna left the room on tiptoe. 6. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. “I’m covered. “I want to be your friend,” he said. “Men’s waists are neither here nor there; A man scores always, everywhere.
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