“My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. "But, it strikes me, I've heard that Mrs. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. That is the dreadful truth. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. They were the same. Supposing you take them and read them? You might be able to tell me why I felt disappointed. 5. .
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