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A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. ” “Wonderful! You can teach my son. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. “A number of beautiful things are not intense. Do you know anything of his friends? Is there any one for whom we ought to send?” “I know very little of him beyond his name,” Anna answered. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. If he succeeds there, I do not know how I can prove myself. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief.
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