Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. Man or woman. She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. Wood now re-appeared with a very red face; and, followed by Winifred, took her seat at the table. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. . She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown.
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