” She laughed gaily—and she had a way when she laughed of throwing back her head and showing her beautiful white teeth, so that mirth from her was a thing very much to be desired. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. . Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. ’ To be sure there was a way.
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