" "Anything like that?" "Yes; but the colour is lavender. I am afraid because I love you, so that the mere thought of failure hurts. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. "No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. " "May be," returned the man gravely. No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. "You are angry?" "Very. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms.
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