The Vorsack house bore the stamp of Diane in every visible spot. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. That turned her mind to the more generalized aspects of her perplexities again. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters.
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