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The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink. But in a moment she believed she understood.
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