Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. “Well, I don’t feel like standing it. It was a large room, about twenty feet long and fifteen broad, and had an arched stone roof. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. “I throw it out in passing,” he said.
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