She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. . ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. "I don't see how you do it, Hoddy. ’ He grinned. "But there's nothing more to see in Canton. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. Michelle laughed, saying that she could only guess. I did not know what God had in mind then. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror.
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