” “It is most unlikely that I shall be able to do so,” Anna answered. ‘There is little I can do at present. He drew compellingly upon his new characters to keep him out of this melancholy channel; but they ebbed and ebbed; he could not hold them. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw.
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