The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Close upon this came another thought. O'Higgins returned to town and made a night of it, nothing very wild, nothing very desperate. If my Mom found out, she’d kill me. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price. She found the silence comforting, as old people often do.
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