” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A. “John, don’t!” she cried. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. You do not wish to marry me at all, that is seen. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. He could have her in the car but she preferred a more private setting. I never see them, they never even call. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day.
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