” Anna was silent. Wood, with a candle in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out, and darted down stairs. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend.
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