Her tone was hoarse with passion. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. ” Anna looked at her steadily. Her arms and feet were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. I mean my cut-offs and boots.
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