’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. ‘Take this. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper.
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