I don’t think you understand. The castle stood on the main island which connected to the mainland by a foreboding stone and wooden bridge. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. All the furniture was moved, all the meals were disarranged, and everybody, Ann Veronica included, appeared in new, bright costumes. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it.
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