” They were lingering over their dessert. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. Anna was unimpressed. There is no Heaven for your mother. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect.
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