She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. If you love me, do not allude to this subject again. “To your room!” Michelle cowered, her face flushed with anger. “You told me that in the Zoological Gardens. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
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