Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ” Anna looked at them for a moment with a pitiful attempt at a smile. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. ” “Coffee! Bah!” The newcomer picked her way across the floor with daintily uplifted skirts, and subsided into a deck chair of stretched canvas. It was a letter. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses.
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