’ ‘Precisely. The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. Something namelessly abhorrent in the eyes of those men…! She knew what arms were for—to fold and embrace and to hold one tightly; but why men wished to kiss women was still a profound mystery. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming.
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