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. CHAPTER XXIV. “It spreads like wildfire. "Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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