Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. ” “I have denied it,” she answered. ” Anna was silent. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. She had imagined she had drowned them altogether. \" Cathy poured her a glass. It is in the lower cupboard.
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