"I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her.
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