.." My mother played. Beautifully. This was her room."Andrew walked to AnneMarie and took her hand, then led her to a corner of the room, holding her ...lose, resting his hands on her waist."Are you angry with me?" No." AnneMarie shook her head. The ringlets of her hair, gathered on top of her head for the warm day, bounced with her movement.Andrew smiled. He could not avoid doing so. Without the jacket to her dress, with her hair piled on top of her head and the faint mist of perspiration on her. To please her adorer she had allowed him to ask her, through me, for a series of photographs of her beauteous self. Tom used to rave so much about her beauty and the excess of his own feelings that, as you know, I took a good deal of trouble in the matter, and persuaded her to give him some comfort and relief by somewhat freer poses than the preceding ones, through my camera as a medium.Louisa had, at last, become quite familiar and friendly with me and, in the end, came to see me unaccompanied. More

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