“Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. Wood could stand it no longer. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. “You can look as innocent and shocked as you please. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. “DEAREST A—— “I lied to you. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. But from the rest—you saved me.
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