Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. He’s riding down the drive.
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