She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. "What does he say?" roared the long drover. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. . Very glad. It is Anna again who stands between me and ruin. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. The impassivity of her features changed at last.
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