“You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. Still, they bob up occasionally. Directly he saw Anna he accosted her. We must always move on. There's one person in the house whom I wouldn't frighten for the world. You sent back my Christmas checks. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that.
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