Anne hugged him back. He was so old, and such a kind man, that he felt like a grandfather, more than a stranger, and it didn't feel wrong. "I'll be brave and I'll work very hard." She stooped down to put her money in her shoe, where it would make less noise than if she put it in her pocket. Then she shook his hand. "Thank you. I will see you on Sunday." And she rushed off, before she'd be late and father would question her. She did feel brave. It was awfully wicked to tell so many lies in order to be able to do this. But for a moment she did not fear God, or father, or the reverend. She was brave.