But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. He waited the pleasure of Monsieur. A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance level and ever forward. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. ” They stared at each other through a pause, and both faces were flushed and obstinate.
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