"Can't!" repeated his mother. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. They'll be back soon enough—or not at all. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. Then it was the woman herself who was changed. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please.
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