Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. Part 9 The realization that she was in love flooded Ann Veronica’s mind, and altered the quality of all its topics. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. It is better as it is. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. She says she will have to, though she does not wish to. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. ” “On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small boarding-house where I was stopping. She looked in the rear-view mirror.
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