For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. . We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails.
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