Chapter VIII
Doubt
But Anne’s words were braver than herself. That night she sat on the edge of her great bed with an eiderdown wrapped about her, and unseeing eyes fixed upon the candle-flame. Only the salons had been supplied with electricity, and her vast, cold bedroom was engulfed with shadows.
How little she knew of her friend, or of this strange old world which had made him! It seemed to spread about her into a mystery so profound that it became a menace. What did she know of its landmarks? What assurance had she of its safety? Another race of men dwelt there. Could she ever understand that race?
At this point her clear young mind sought to put aside indefinite visions. What, after all, was troubling her? There had been no sense of shadows or mystery that afternoon. A man who said that he loved her had walked under the old Roman wall of the Corso Italia with another woman. And why should he not so walk? One may meet a woman anywhere by chance. Was she young? And93
