She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. ” He stalked around the room. Anyhow, now you’ve begun it, there’s nothing to keep us in all this from being the best friends in the world. Gracious, there’s the gong. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being.
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