arms' Oh, well, that hasn't anything to do with the scenery."
But she went on reading to herself, squatting there, reading to the end.
"The lead soldier was now lighted up by the flames, and felt a tremendous degree of heat; but whether it proceeded from the real fire, or from the fire of love, he could not exactly tell. . . . He looked at the little lady, and she looked at him, and he felt himself melting away; still he stood firm with his gun on his shoulder. The door now happened to open, and the wind caught up the dancer, who fluttered . . . right into the stove beside the lead soldier, and was instantly consumed by the flame. The lead soldier melted down to a lump . . . in the shape of a little leaden heart. Of the dancer nothing remained but the tinsel rose, and that was as black as a cinder."
Joe's head, with its cowlick, was bent close to the—board; his legs were twined around each other. A tip of tongue stuck out between his lips as it had when he was an absorbed little boy. He's really interested, Kate thought, so relieved that she could have wept for joy. And the cowlick made her love him so that it was all she could do not to jump up and kiss the top of his head.
It was raining again, quietly now. The scent of wet honeysuckle came in at the windows. She picked up the sweater she had been knitting for Hope, and went on with it, not thinking of what she was doing, but
