Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. I've seen him often do it. . He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement.
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