“I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit. “You fill me with happiness, John. ” “I don’t think it makes a rap of difference, except for one thing. ’ Releasing her, he turned and walked swiftly towards the door. Her eyes quizzed the major. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words.
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