Those I don’t mind, though, the games. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. No: I must face it out. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. My profession has hardened me. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. “Well,” she said. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U. “Bother it all!” she swore.
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