I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. “But that’s quite different,” replied Anna. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. For many of them it will smirch us forever. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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