This year—I’ve got it badly. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. Go to your sister, and do not quit her till all is over.
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