Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips. "You won't refuse it, Mr. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory.
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