Chapter 12 No.12

His back was turned to the door as she entered. He was staring at a

picture beside the mantel--a portrait of Frederick R. Woods--and his

eyes when he wheeled about were wistful.

Then, on a sudden, they lighted up as if they had caught fire from

hers, and his adoration flaunted crimson banners in his cheeks, and

his heart, I dare say,