I somehow understood. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. " "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. She looked stealthily at Anna.
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