"Enough," said the widow, gratefully. There was no response. "The poor young man!" she said. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. Gerald’s breath caught. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber.
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