At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses. “I’m not a good woman. ” “I did not come,” she faltered. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders.
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