CHAPTER 8
PART XXXIV
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER 8Visible text2 paragraphs
Forty-five. Yesterday she was forty-five, and today. Tomorrow she would be forty-six. She had come through the dreadful, dangerous year without thinking of it, and nothing had happened. Nothing at all. She couldn't imagine why she had ever been afraid of it; she could hardly remember what being afraid of it had felt like.
Aunt Charlotte -- Uncle Victor --