Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. It is now a point of view, differing widely, as the ignorant man differs from the educated. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. If this is the young lady, she can perhaps calm him. I want my freedom. Silly, isn’t it? Undisciplined. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. She hesitated, and for a moment thought of omitting her second verse altogether.
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