Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. I must!” She threw open the door and pointed to it. " CHAPTER XIII. ’ He grinned. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. It must be some days before you can arrange for her to make an identification.
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