"I think it might do him a great deal of good."
"You could say I painted it for him."
"So I will. That will do him no harm neither. Shall I say I found you crying over it?"
"Oh, no! no! That would make him cry too, perhaps."
"Ah, I forgot that. Grace, you are an angel."
"Ah, no. But you can tell him I am--if you think so. That will do him no great harm--will it?"
"Not an atom to him; but it will subject me to a pinch for stale news. There, give me my patient's picture, and let me go."
She kissed the little picture half-furtively, and gave it him, and let him go; only, as he went out at the door, she murmured, "Come often."
which swirled fully three feet of water, which, slowly
At the time of the Crusades, wrote Deeping, there was
was ringing my bell; and I hurried to the door, only too
In that kind of silence which seems to be peopled with
indigo came next in value; then capsicum, old clothes,
His voice trailed off. The sound of a confused and singular