She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. He had done it. "Out of a family album, you said," Angelina reminded her sister. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. Suddenly she understood. I must finish it at home. F. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. This won’t do. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. "'Tis a cruel thing you've done, lad. Sheppard. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger.
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