Section 2. 9. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. Wood's," was the reply. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. But you are Annabel.
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