“How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. Looked like them statues of the Holy Mother I see about the place. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. ’ Melusine edged a little away from the portrait. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. I was being stupid.
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