A maidservant held the front door open. She saw it, and checked without thinking. Diane replied, “Is there something wrong with that, Michelle? This is my house too, you know. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. . They have rescued the child.
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