Then the inner door opened abruptly. I cannot live without you, Anna. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. That’s got his nerves to rags. ’ And with that he went off to the City, stern and silent, leaving his bacon on his plate—a great slice of bacon hardly touched. A vast indifference settled down upon him. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. JACK SHEPPARD.
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