Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. “There is some mystery about you both,” he exclaimed, with sudden earnestness. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. His figure was uncommonly slim even for his age, which could not be more than thirteen; and the looseness of his garb made him appear thinner than he was in reality. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Sir John followed me to London and married me. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. Nothing ensued. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel.
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