“You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. At last—I told a story. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. The close-fitting round gown, if a little oldfashioned with its very narrow waist and wide skirts, was becoming on a full figure, and the low décolletage, unencumbered by any form of covering, exposed a good deal of bosom.
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