She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. Do not oppose it, and I will serve you. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful.
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