“Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell. ” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self.
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