I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. ’ Emile’s eyes blazed. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. ‘Not in the open street.
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