It did
not even contain the religious pictures or the crucifixes which would
have relieved the blankness of the walls in a Roman Catholic
establishment of the kind.
As I stood gazing about me, with a feeling of indignation that such a
place as this should ever have been the home of such a woman as Sylvia,
a door opened, and Mother Anastasia entered.
Her appearance shocked me. I had in my mind the figure of a woman with
whom I had talked,--a woman glowing with the warmth of a rich beauty,
draped in graceful folds of white, with a broad hat shadowing her face,
and a bunch of wild flowers in her belt. Here was a tall woman clothed
in solemn gray, her face pale, her eyes fixed upon the ground; but it
was Mother Anastasia; it was the woman who had talked to me of Sylvia,
who had promised to help me with Sylvia.
Still gazing on the floor, with her hands folded before her, she asked
me what I wished. At first I could not answer her. It seemed impossible
to open my heart to a woman such as this one. But if I said anything, I
must say it without hesitation, and so I began.
"Of course," I said, "I have come to see you about Sylvia Raynor. I am
in much trouble regarding her. You promised to aid me, and I have come
to ask for the fulfillment of that promise.
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