Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living. " The manager made a negative sign. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office.
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