“Thanks, I’m not very fond of coffee,” Anna answered, “and I hate music. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. She lay very still and closed her eyes, hear tears gliding off of her ears, causing them to itch.
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