Every one looked at Anna. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. Good riddance to bad rubbish. John eased off. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child.
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