Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. "I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. “He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered calmly. What she actually wanted was the present state of affairs to continue indefinitely. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions.
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