"Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. . It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers.
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