" The little girl's countenance fell. " "Man, she's your wife!" "And I am a thief. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. When I went I was refused admittance.
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