The next morning came a compact letter from her father. “Okay, I guess. This is your room. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, remember. Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. Love, obliterated, annihilated; out of his heart and out of his Bible. You are to remain here until you are well. “Soul to soul.
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