He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. ’ Which effectually silenced her. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. Recovering himself quickly his instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna’s presence. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. And don't worry about the six thousand, Hoddy. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone.
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