Whitby folded his paper and raised his hand, a finger up."You taught my daughter to ride astride." He raised another finger. "To shoot a pistol." A third. "To drive an automobile." Four. "To swim." And his thumb. "To fence".Whitby narrowed his eyes. " What have you to say for your self?"Looking at her now, how she sat with such confidence, how she laughed with such abandon, how she faced life with such brilliance, there was only one thing he could say. "You're welcome.
-Roseanna M. White
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