“You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. ‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his power, a poor helpless thing.
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