Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. “If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension.
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