” She stopped. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. . John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. How provoking!" she added, pretending to rummage her pockets; "one never can find a thing when one wants it.
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