He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. She lifted the sheet and gestured for him to join her. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. That held his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. He turned back at once. It was horrible, but she must do it. My name is Annabel, not Anna. Yield up the babe, and I pledge my word you shall remain unmolested.
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