cry for. Anna had lived in two rooms all her life. She didn't even have the language. She might not be alive now if we'd left her there.' Next, Anna had to be tested for Aids.' They took the blood from her jugular vein. When I saw her crying, with her neck all swollen, I wanted to lash out at the doctor who'd done this to her. At that moment I began to feel that she was mine, that I didn't want to lose her.' Whether Anna sensed this, nobody can know. She herself will probably not remember. But as Christine was leaving the orphanage to take the blood sample to Bucharest, she heard a child screaming.' We looked round, and there was Anna, crawling as fast as she could to me. I couldn't believe it. I picked her up. The doctor told me that it was the first time she had made an advance to anybody. They held her up to the window, and she was crying