“I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. ’ The footman did not object, but it was plain he felt he was neglecting his duty, for he emitted an admonitory cough, causing the captain to pause in his way to the library across the hall. I had left Paris. They blinded me. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead.
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