Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. Although Martha did not know it, she had her pistol and her daggers, and her knife. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things.
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