“It’s—private. ’ The snaking suspicion rolled through his mind again. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. ” “I forgive you willingly,” Anna said, bending over him. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease.
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