Pause. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. And―and he wanted to help you. \"You should go out with him. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. . In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. CHAPTER XX.
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