‘Pitiful. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. " "He'll have hard work to do it by that time, father," remonstrated Thames; "you'd better let me help him. I could not love you else. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. . ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. “Your affectionate “FATHER.
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