When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Gabrielle lowers her head and scuffs the toes of her shoes against each other. “Look at me!” Andrew hisses. Gabrielle shakes her head and refuses to meet his glare. “I—I’m afraid,” she stammers. “Why?” he asks. “No,” she whispers, “I’m nervous.” “Look at me or I’ll put poisonous snakes in your room,” Andrew threatens. Gabrielle raises her head and meets his gaze in an instant. As he stares into her dark, bright eyes, he remembers the cross-eyed way she stared at the snake and he almost laughs aloud. “Who’s Mr. Clifford?” Andrew asks. “He’s the one with patterns,” she says hurriedly, “He has a sharp head that looks very much like yours. If you look, you’ll admit you can see a resemblance.” “So you’re not calling me names?” Andrew asks suspiciously. “No. I wouldn’t dare,” she resp