After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her. Anna took up the pen, and signed, after a moment’s hesitation, A. ‘You’re either mad, or in love. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. He couldn't have taken Mr.
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