But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. “I did,” Anna answered. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy.
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