Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Adjoining it was the Lower Ward,—"Though, in what degree of latitude it was situated," observes Ned Ward, "I cannot positively demonstrate, unless it lay ninety degrees beyond the North Pole; for, instead of being dark there but half a year, it is dark all the year round. Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. .
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