” Anna wheeled an easy chair to the fire. You DO use vile language!” “Forget about it like this. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. For a time she furnished the flat. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against.
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