There was hope for me then. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. By-the-bye,” he added, in a suddenly altered tone, “I hope, I trust—that you have not entered into any arrangements with any one here?” “I—oh no!” Anna said, a little faintly. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. “Am I hurting you?” She asked. “There is no doubt whatever about that. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. They were sure to catch up with her. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost.
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