She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. 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. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. And me, I know very much of soldiers. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. “No,” she answered, reluctantly.
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