” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. I don’t quite know why. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. .
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