She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. “He is a sad blunderer. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge.
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