“The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. See what you have made of me. To disillusion her, forthwith. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. Besides, I acted for others, and not for myself. Gianfrancesco ran from the room, tearing at his hair. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. “I think that you are very dense. “I ought never have gone to the Zoo, I suppose.
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