He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. Then, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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