She confronted him with his own double-standard. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. ” “That is so,” Anna admitted. It is Anna again who stands between me and ruin. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself.
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