" The Wastrel advanced. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. ‘I am fascinated.
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