Her new husband was pleased to watch the astonished look on her face as tray after tray appeared on the grand table, each better than the next. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. EARLES, Strictly Private Every one stared at Anna. “Very well,” he said. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. “Who are you?” She asked innocently.
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