What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. They were true noblemen, men of the court. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. For a time she furnished the flat. ” “Why can’t you take me with you?” He begged.
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