" "Fine!" said O'Higgins, jovially. In this state of knowledge you will be horribly, irrevocably, alone. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. “And I’m not happy. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. “Don’t worry, Julian. I don’t understand the workings of a gentleman’s mind. ” “You alarm me,” she murmured, smiling. She had not even endorsed it.
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