Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. She felt like Snow White in a secret forest house populated by dwarves. “His back was towards me,” Anna said. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. He had not considered this aspect of the business. You are much more like what I was then. Sorry to be so nosy. I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir from home for a week to come. Mr. Just.
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