Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. But he does not come to see me since three days, even that these are my affairs and one could think that he would tell it to me if there is news, no?’ ‘When he has news to tell he will come, child, trust me,’ the old lady assured her.
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