’ He frowned again. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. “Time for my Patience,” she said. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. She decided to leave this matter until the morrow and devote the morning to settling up with Mr. "Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting.
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