” He pointed to Ennison, who in his turn looked across at Anna. ‘Dead then, is he?’ ‘If I could say that he is dead, it would give me very much satisfaction. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. And they’ll shut the gates presently. "Not as I loved mine. It’s artificially chance. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored.
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