She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. Tell me all that happened, one sister-woman to another. ” Mr. " "Till midnight," replied Jack. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness.
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