’ She sniffed and swallowed. “Take me back. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. Before her was a great Gothic portal. Beware of him, my son! Beware of him! You know not what villany he is capable of. Besides, she had admitted her identity. They almost made me feel like they were mine. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble.
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