‘That’s not much comfort. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. It surprises you. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. " "He made you wear shoes and stockings?" "Always.
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