Mr. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. Anna was singing as she used to sing. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. He’s riding down the drive. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead. . It is very sweet of you to have waited for me. My engagement at the ‘Garrick’ terminates Saturday week, and then I am free.
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