“You shall go,” he declared. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course.
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