And then all her restlessness was turned to joy. We Spurlocks take our medicine, standing. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it.
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