. . You were pointed out to me at—a few nights ago. My Mom and Dad were on the brink of divorce, what else is new, they still are. Having secured this,—for he was almost famished,—he said that he had lost a hammer and wished to purchase one. We all love you dearly. The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. Something tells me I am rushing on greater danger.
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