Wood could stand it no longer. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. But after a time I learned the ways of the parrakeets, and they would come down to me like doves in the stories. I have gone without dinner for three nights, and—come in.
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