" "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. Escape was now impossible. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment.
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