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Then she came back and poured out the tea and we both drank it silently

The roo of old

pitch pine, cleaned of its paint and mellowed and waxed, so that it

sees One

land of about 1699 Everything

looked the setting for a love scene The glowing laht, and the yellow roses everywhere, and two hu, and not cold of

nature, sitting there with faces of stone, and in each one's heart

bitterness Again I laughed aloud

Thesound seemed to disturb my bride She allowed her tea cup to

rattle as she put it down nervously

"Would you like me to read to you," she asked icily

And I said "Yes"

And presently her beautiful cultivated voice was flowing along It was

an article in the Saturday Review she had picked up, and I did not

take in what it was about I was gazing into the glowing logs, and

trying to see visions, and gain any inspiration of how to find a way out

of this tangle of false iet more accustomed to one another--somehow to let Alathea know

the truth