There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat.
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