That's one of the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously. “My name is Anna Pellissier, sometimes called Annabel. Her tone was hoarse with passion. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. My natural parents both died a very long time ago and I have been on my own for a great deal of my existence. Better even than these. But, go and see who it is, love.
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