Her aunt had asked, and Anne said he was a friend of her father, a loyal businessman from Annapolis who dealt in mules and horses or "some such thing.... She wondered how the lie had come so easily.Anne looked at her smooth face, her dark green eyes, her tiny dimples and patrician nose as her huge mop of multi-hued hair hung well down her back, the heavy strands varying from pale golden hue to a deep, rich scarlet and dark umber. A woman looked back, a tired and worried woman with freckles on her. The cribwasn't slatted on that side, instead it was a solid piece of white wood,and I attempted to ignore her. She pulled a blanket over the top of meand leaned down to kiss me. "Have a good nap," she said.I couldn't believe how my fortune failed again so rapidly. I had managedto reset one of the strikes, and would have been back to threetomorrow... instead I had gone poop and the charade she had beenpresenting of allowing me some independence was shattered. I closed myeyes and hoped that maybe. More

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