Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. “Have you got to keep her now?” “To the best of my ability,” said Mr. “I doubted my luck, at least. “I wonder what happened. Ennison was deeply interested.
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