By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. " So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly in the yard. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage.
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