And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. “His back was towards me,” Anna said. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Collins, you can go now. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time.
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