By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. The face of the man who lay there was clearly visible. “The Chens must already be here. " "Glad to see you once more in the Mint, Mrs. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. ” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat.
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