She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. Brendon felt his arm seized. “You have them both,” Anna answered. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night.
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