They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. C. Sara Darnell was a sprightly, svelte twenty-five year old who was known for serving detentions at meter maid frequency, if only to be taken marginally more seriously by the predominantly male Lincoln High Science Department. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. I am a young person seeking employment and freedom and self-development, just as in quite our first talk of all I said I wanted to be.
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