John has made me so happy, I’ve been losing myself in him. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. “You must not think of me as one. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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