" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. As he turned the handle, it moved, and the door was taken from his hand and pulled outward by the young footman. Yet I fancy that we who have been poor ourselves must be the best judges of the needs of the people. ” “No you’re not. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. ” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash.
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