A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. “I am afraid,” he said to Anna afterwards, “that it was a mistake to order the champagne sec. He must be gone to dispose of the body. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living. A pig, yes, a little. And when she learned that she had been doubly cheated, what then? His thoughts began to fall on her side of the scales, and his own misery grew lighter as he anticipated hers. I don't think he'll come to himself too soon.
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