It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. . . Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. Then all the embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her. This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. .
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