“I am not sure,” Anna answered. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. “Perhaps by this time you will have heard of the step I have taken in leaving my home. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous. Hanging about! And they start thinking and asking questions, and begin to be neither one thing nor the other. “These are the playgrounds of life.
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