" "Then I'll lend a helping hand. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. ‘No doubt accompanied by the latest crim con tales. I might as well try to build a ladder to heaven. What is it?" "Is there anything I can do?" The idiocy of the question filled him with the craving of laughter. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs.
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