‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. “You had only to ask——” “Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied for your sake. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. I was extremely subtle—in fact, as devious as Melusine. But we can’t help noticing. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible.
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