Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. It would be the culmination of her plan. ’ ‘I’ve a good mind to leave the pair of you to it and take myself off,’ threatened his junior, marching across the room and snatching up a decanter. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. . Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood.
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