’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “It’s funny, the way a good house feels.
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