This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. I have slept with it under my pillow. " "You were born on the island?" "I believe so.
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