He returned to attend the funeral. Above her head was an aura of white fire. Montague Hill do not interest me in the least. I can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I please. You see to what it has brought you. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. She had looked forward to an explanation. As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife.
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