"Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. Looked like them statues of the Holy Mother I see about the place. But leave me here in my home, child, I will disintegrate if I am exposed. On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. She would not let her move.
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