But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled. It is positively hateful to think of it. One cannot trust any man at all. He was a little embarrassed. What do you say?” “I agree,” Anna said coldly, “if you will make it three months. I was his wife. ” There came a silence again. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love.
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