” Anna tried to look angry, but her mouth betrayed her. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. “Call me Cathy, John. But she made no answer. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. But be very careful not to let him know. “That cannot happen!” She replied, feeling her world start to disintegrate underneath her feet. I understand nothing of what you say.
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