And I want you for myself—for my wife. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. Stop it!” Anna stepped back bewildered, but the man held out his arms to her. Besides, I have my doubts that he is so very sick.
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