They clapped wildly afterward. One could enter and leave by proa, but nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked.
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