It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. To-morrow they will know the truth. 1.
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