A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone.
“I have made no progress with my work,” she said slowly, “and the money was gone. I had to ask Mr. Courtlaw for his true verdict, and he gave it me. I have given up painting.”
“Anna!”
“It is true, dear. After all there are other things. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. Only of course I must begin something else at once. That is why I came to London.”
“But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel asked. “Have you any money?”
“Lots,” Anna answered laconically. “Never mind me. I always fall on my feet, you know.”
“You will let us hear from you—let us know where you are, very soon?” Annabel called out from the step.
Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement.
“Some day,” she answered. “Run in now. There’s a hansom coming round the corner.”