” “Where do you go?” “Oh!—Alps. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. ‘Speak, then. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ’ Melusine bit her lip. Then he remembered that she was Anna’s sister. The Return 231 II. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl (who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was profoundly sad. This made the eleventh. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way.
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