“Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. The light disappeared. They were a young man and an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. "Because you did not wish to hurt me?" "Yes. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. “If you speak—farewell. ’ *** The tapping for which Melusine had been waiting came at last. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. ’ That arrested her.
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