She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. " "I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. I received a telegram, as you know, during dinner. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. She caught at the idea. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. “Well, because I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. ” “You are willing to give up your position, your beautiful houses, your carriages and milliner’s accounts to come back to Bohemianism?” “Why not?” Annabel declared. The world isn’t ready for girls to start out on their own yet; that’s the plain fact of the case. She was tempted to touch him in the car as they drove to the empty house, but she refrained for fear of causing a car accident. ‘I should never have told you.
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