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“
Then
I
’
ll
go
and
ask
her
for
one
myself
.
”
She
turned
and
took
a
few
steps
toward
the
door
.
“
Anna
!
”
He
started
to
follow
her
,
and
then
checked
himself
.
“
Don
’
t
do
that
!
”
“
Why
not
?
”
“
It
’
s
not
like
you
.
.
.
not
generous
.
.
.
”
She
stood
before
him
straight
and
pale
,
but
under
her
rigid
face
he
saw
the
tumult
of
her
doubt
and
misery
.
“
I
don
’
t
want
to
be
ungenerous
;
I
don
’
t
want
to
pry
into
her
secrets
.
But
things
can
’
t
be
left
like
this
.
Wouldn
’
t
it
be
better
for
me
to
go
to
her
?
Surely
she
’
ll
understand
—
she
’
ll
explain
.
.
.
.
It
may
be
some
mere
trifle
she
’
s
concealing
:
something
that
would
horrify
the
Farlows
,
but
that
I
shouldn
’
t
see
any
harm
in
.
.
.
”
She
paused
,
her
eyes
searching
his
face
.
“
A
love
affair
,
I
suppose
.
.
.
that
’
s
it
?
You
met
her
with
some
man
at
the
theatre
—
and
she
was
frightened
and
begged
you
to
fib
about
it
?
Those
poor
young
things
that
have
to
go
about
among
us
like
machines
—
oh
,
if
you
knew
how
I
pity
them
!
”
“
If
you
pity
her
,
why
not
let
her
go
?
”
She
stared
.
“
Let
her
go
—
go
for
good
,
you
mean
?
Is
that
the
best
you
can
say
for
her
?
”
“
Let
things
take
their
course
.
After
all
,
it
’
s
between
herself
and
Owen
.
”
“
And
you
and
me
—
and
Effie
,
if
Owen
marries
her
,
and
I
leave
my
child
with
them
!
Don
’
t
you
see
the
impossibility
of
what
you
’
re
asking
?
We
’
re
all
bound
together
in
this
coil
.
”
