If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. . ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. Hitherto you’ve seen only my easy, kindly side. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. “I have heard of you, of course,” Anna answered hesitatingly, “but——” “You cannot imagine what I have come to see you about.
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