Do you know, I envy you. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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