He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. She kissed Cathy's soft cheek as she entered the warm kitchen. Anna, with her marvellous capacity for enjoyment, ate cakes and laughed, and forgot that she had had tea an hour or so ago at an A. She laughed a little bitterly. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda.
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