It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. "I never told anybody," she went on. He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. "Buck up! While there's life there's hope. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. He just seemed to have no interest, consumed with the hunt or his newfound friend, Sebastianus, who supposedly would enable him to expand his political ties to Rome. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. I am the cause of his ill-usage. “My word holds,” she said. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. He won’t be in uniform. Their minds are turned against him.
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