One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. “Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. That’s my opinion, if you ask me. Look at these walls. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face.
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