" The lack of a family album for some reason put a little ache in her heart. That is why I am here. The fire still burned brightly. ’ The couple on the sofa stared at her blankly. So was I, in fact. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict.
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