Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. That is what my mother used to call me. “Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. He kissed her once inside the car. This is a joke of yours. " CHAPTER XIX. She became angry with herself.
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