” “It was exceedingly wrong of you,” Anna declared. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. I saw the motor dashed to pieces against the wall, and I saw him pitched on his head into the road. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas.
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