” Miss Pellissier was beginning to recover herself. "Is it you?" "It is," replied her son, "Oh! why would you not listen to me?" "I was distracted," replied Mrs. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. . End of Project Gutenberg's Anna the Adventuress, by E.
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