Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. " He laughed and pushed back his chair. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, never dare to call yourself my friend again. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. A dissipated, loose-living man. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. "Where is my mother?" he added, regarding the knight with a searching glance. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. After all, it is not long since that a Catholic nun in this country would have had to remain in hiding.
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