" "Come along, master," said the waterman. Don’t be frightened, dear. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. I don’t play anything. If you will think only of one trifling aspect—the inconvenience it must be to us to explain your absence—I think you may begin to realize what it all means for us. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. ‘Tell me, my boy. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. "Could you get any of the music last night?" "Yes.
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