Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. They did not want her. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores. “Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. I am going to make a fresh start. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. “Oh, you know,” she said.
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