176 “No, it’s very good. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. They were those of the Irish watchman. "That we were afraid," replied the other; "but never mind her. At this gate two paths meet. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. There was just time for the girl to raise her arm to chest height and draw it back before Roding seized her. I don’t want to bother you, of course. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut. . The thought of beauty became an obsession.
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