“Do I understand you then to refuse my offer?” he asked Anna. I have always hated it. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. He began shoveling dirt over the bodies. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. "An audience might have frightened the birds. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. " "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly.
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