The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Up to dinner yesterday I did not expect to come to Canton. They sat in the front row. In the pause she realized the attention of the others converged upon her, and that the tears were brimming over her eyes. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. . "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. But that doesn’t alter the fact that there IS innocence. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. She must speak to Jack.
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