John eased off. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. Unconscious of the interest he excited, and entirely occupied by his own thoughts—which, if his bosom could have been examined, would have been found composed of mingled hopes and fears—the young man walked on till he came to an old house, with great projecting bay windows on the first floor, and situated as nearly as possible at the back of St. . To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. He was a philosopher. Ovarian cancer.
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