But Jonathan was not to be deterred. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. Yet he stays. Larry inserted, \"You should have called. She could not say who, not yet.
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