“The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. “I demand to know what is going on right now! How dare you come here telling MY child that she has to answer YOUR questions! This little girl has never done anything wrong in the two and a half years she has lived with us!” Larry came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. Her foster parents had attended the concert in their finest clothes, Cathy in a new JC Penney dress, Larry in a suit that was too small. The lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. "When I heard of your escape, I felt sure I should see you. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. .
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