A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. I may tell him, at any rate, that you will see him?” “I shall like to see him,” Anna answered. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. For yonder went the loneliest man in all God's unhappy world. "My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. "I beg your pardon!… A bit rocky this morning….
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