Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. She stepped into his arms. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. Anna watched her with curious eyes. Come. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. In truth, she liked Gerald also.
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