“Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. It melted her heart. "Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. ” Annabel looked at him curiously. ” 189 “Are you feeling okay?” She could feel a parade of ants dotting her skin. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world.
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