"I wonder if you will understand what this kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise—and so wofully ignorant!" CHAPTER XII The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his elbow. It was Annabel’s. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. But I dare not accept it. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. "A bad business this, Van," observed Baptist, with a prolonged shake of the head. Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo.
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