She could not help but swoon a little. “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. “Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors.
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