You can trust me, Anna. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. “I have the right of the man who loves you,” he declared. “A man like that taints a girl by looking at her, by his mere conversation. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. She could not say who, not yet. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself. There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it.
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