Chapter VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS “Anna!” Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. I thought it would be magnificent to have a great house in Paris, and more money than any other woman. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. ” “But the marriage itself?” Sir John asked. “Would they make her Queen?” She asked innocently. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. “It’s a period of crude views and crude work,” said Mr. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it.
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