” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. She confronted him with his own double-standard. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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