Greece was a different place. CHAPTER XVII. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. This time there wasn't any doubt. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. He dined, and then pleaded a political engagement. He had heard everything. It was enough. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis.
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