“My name,” Anna replied calmly, “is certainly Pellissier, but I repeat that I do not know you. You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. At last, a little way to the northward of Euston Road, the moral cloud seemed to lift, the moral atmosphere to change; clean blinds appeared in the windows, clean doorsteps before the doors, a different appeal in the neatly placed cards bearing the word ————————————— | APARTMENTS ————————————— | in the clear bright windows.
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