It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. . His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. ” “Oh, well!” he said, a little doubtfully, “it’s just a phase,” and bent down and rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, with his heart beating and his nerves a-quiver. The unfortunate carpenter struggled violently, but ineffectually. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. I’d do anything, Vee.
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