Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. “I have heard of you, of course,” Anna answered hesitatingly, “but——” “You cannot imagine what I have come to see you about. ‘To me, quickly!’ There was a brief hush, and then the shouts resumed and several pairs of feet clattered towards her from, as it seemed, several directions. His tongue was hot. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. Anyhow, there it is: YOU ARE NOT GOING THERE. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had.
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