You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. ‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect.
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