From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. " "Mr. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. The inn was a military haunt. "Where are the boys?" "In the hall. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. Her little white hand stole across the table. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. If any of you—or all of you feel the same in six months’ time from to-day, will you come, if you care to, and see me then?” There was a brief silence. CONTENTS.
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