The stoppage had materially lessened the distance between him and his pursuers, who now amounted to more than a hundred persons, many of whom carried lanterns and links. He brought his mother to call, and as you know the Countess goes scarcely anywhere. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. The girl had told him distinctly that her name was Anna. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. ” He said nothing for a space.
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