"You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. The great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass alone. “It’s the warming up of the year, the coming of the light mornings, the way in which everything begins to run about and begin new things.
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