An Interlude "To think that this is my twentieth birthday, and that I've left my teens behind me forever," said Anne, who was curled up on the hearth-rug with Rusty in her lap, to Aunt Jamesina who was reading in her pet chair.

They were alone in the living room.

Stella and Priscilla had gone to a committee meeting and Phil was upstairs adorning herself for a party.
"I suppose you feel kind of, sorry" said Aunt Jamesina.

"The teens are such a nice part of life.

I'm glad I've never gone out of them myself." Anne laughed.
"You never will, Aunty.