“Mother, Mother, I’m so happy!” Sibyl whispered.
She buried her face in the lap of her tired, faded-looking mother, who was sitting in the only armchair in their shabby little sitting room, with her back turned toward the harsh light.
“I’m so happy,” Sibyl repeated.
“And you have to be happy too.”
Mrs. Vane flinched slightly.
She placed her thin, heavily powdered hands on her daughter’s head.
“Happy?” she repeated.