And Anna was conscious of a few moments of exquisite emotion. It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering.
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