Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. A true nun. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. In her case the barrier was not selfishness but the perception that her interest would be misinterpreted, naturally. ” 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. But then he began to take steps, and, at last, strides to something more and more like predominance.
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