Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. I had no idea!” She sat down abruptly and threw her wrists limply upon the table. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. . The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention. All the village was assembled in the churchyard. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. She was quivering with the sense of Capes at her side and glowing with heroic love; it seemed to her that if they put their hands jointly against the Alps and pushed they would be able to push them aside. Teaching the word of God to the recent cannibal, caring for the sick, storming the strongholds of the plague, adding his own private income to the pittance allowed him by the Society, and never seeing the angel that walked at his side! Something the girl knew nothing about; else Enschede was unbelievable. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head.
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