"You forgot your lunch," she said. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. “And of course you are my niece just as Annabel is, although I am sorry to learn that your conduct has been much less discreet than hers. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. . “It was a phase,” she said. “I say!” he said, without any movement. "I don't know what his idea was. She felt much better.
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