In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. I tell you that because it puts us on a footing. It would make my wife very happy. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. From your pocket there. She was suddenly grave. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair.
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