While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. “I did not,” Anna answered. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily. Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights.
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