“So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly. ” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. His literary instincts began to stir.
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