"Perhaps I can write to you," Hugh tried to console her, feeling horribly guilty and helpless.
"That won't be the same. I do love you so much. Please don't vanish."
"I shall send you things. A doll's house for Evie. By the way, you didn't tell me why you named her that."
"After Angel, of course," returned the child absent-mindedly. "But when you've vanished, I—"
"Is your mother's name Evie?"
"Evelyn. But that's too long for a doll."
"Evelyn—what? You—you haven't told me your name yet."
"Rosemary Evelyn Clifford."
"Great Heavens!"
"How strange your voice sounds," said Rosemary. "Are you ill?"