She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. I want to leave Paris to-day—this very day. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. ” “I came here to talk reasonably, Mr. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. It was hard to resist. “When are you going away?” He asked.
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