"Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. ” Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. .
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