"You mean, it doesn't matter?" "Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you babbled words. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall.
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