At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. “I went to Anna’s rooms because I felt that I must see her. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. You look like a movie star. "And now, farewell, Mr. “I will send you a copy,” Mr. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. “I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized only by oneself— stop.
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