“Then we go on to this place, the Oeschinensee. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. ” “You didn’t. 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. Before Wood had time to inquire into the cause of this sound, his attention was diverted by a man, who rushed past the entry with the swiftness of desperation. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. " "Nothing," echoed Wood furiously.
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