It was at the age of five, when it became clear that she would not be followed by a brother, that he became more distant towards her and stopped adoring her. “But that’s quite different,” replied Anna. A fever of shame ran through her being. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. " "At least, I will hope so," returned Winifred.
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