All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly. ” “Where do you go?” “Oh!—Alps. And every day's experience proves that I was right. He said daring things with a grace which made them irresistible, his eyes flashed back upon her some eloquent but silent appreciation of the change in her manner towards him. But me, I am going to England. Afterward he stole out of the room with the bloodstained sheet to boast her virginity to his brothers and father, which only truly mattered because she was beautiful, her mother had said.
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