"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. Luckily I’m not. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. Shari entered the room in a damp towel, fresh from the shower. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. You must think it over. But you want one quality, without which all others are valueless. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door.
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