Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. His lips were tight drawn. “Miss Pellissier is nothing to me except a young lady for whom I have the most profound and respectful admiration. You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. He—wanted to marry me.
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