It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?” Anna was silent for a moment or two. ” Mrs. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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