“Mr. Softly she rose to her feet. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. It was a brief solitude, however. ” She said. He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. "To be sure I will, my child.
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