181 < 22 > MICHELLE’S STORY The week at school was mostly uneventful save Michelle’s enthusiasm and constant ploys for attention. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference.
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