I am ready to wait for you, to wait your pleasure, to give all my life to winning it. ” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. I was resolved to see you. “Run in now. There! You are trying to take your hand away. ‘She would not tell me. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face.
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