I Don't Know Who It Is," She

There Is Naught A Man Or Woman Can Not Learn Who Hath The Wit.

... Justice Is Mercy's Highest Self.

Never Did She Find Anything So Difficult As To Keep Herself From Losing Her Temper When She Was Suddenly Disturbed While Absorbed In A Book.

She Did Not Know That This Was The Best Thing She Could Have Done, And She Did Not Know That, When She Began To Walk Quickly Or Even Run Along The Paths And Down The Avenue, She Was Stirring Her Slow Blood And Making Herself Stronger By Fighting With The Wind Which Swept Down From The Moor.

Imagine, If You Can, What The Rest Of The Evening Was Like. How They Crouched By The Fire Which Blazed And Leaped And Made Much Of Itself In The Little Grate. How They Removed The Covers Of The Dishes, And Found Rich, Hot Savory Soup, Which Was A Meal In Itself, And Sandwiches And Toast And Muffins Enough For Both Of Them.