The tender flesh on her body, arms and legs felt as though it were being cut open by the thick, coarse fabric as she was gently and carefully lowered ...own to a table.As she touched down on the table, Béla's weight pressed the netting into her tender flesh even more fiercely than before and she cried out in pain. Her voice echoed eerily in her liquid-filled ears. The netting separated and split where the table touched it, gently depositing her on the hard surface as it raised up and away from. They tried to reasonwith me. Then they stomped their feet and pulled their hair. When Itold them I had already signed my enlistment papers, their faces turneda ghastly white. My Dad told me he hoped I wouldn't pay for my youthfulmistake with my life. My Mother thought I suffered from an over-abundance of patriotism. She, really, didn't have a clue. I didn't have the heart to tell her my true reason. I sufferedfrom a disease far more virulent than materialism, far more consumingthan. The tall spiked railings on the streetboundary were mostly pushed over but there was a sign still attachedannouncing the building as Mrs Sandringham's Orphanage. Amongst therubble were barred window frames which made her wonder whether they wereto keep intruders out or the inhabitants in. There were also several ironbedsteads and mattresses. The covering of one of the latter was torn atthe corner and poking through the tear was what looked like some sheetsof pink notepaper. Being Sunday there. We continued our conversations. When they returned, Doris looked at me with a look I knew. There was something important to be said. Wendy came up to me and said, "Addy and I talked to Doris. We don't have anyone anywhere. We want to stay with you but Doris said we had to talk to you first." Oh," I said. "Ladies, I don't see any problem with your joining us except for the fact that there are a lot of women here and not many men. As long as you are okay with that, I see no problem." Thank you,.