So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. He would have to go on; he would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon himself. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action.
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