CHAPTER XVI. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. ” But she could not talk freely about love, she found, for all that manumission. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own.
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