To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. They were a young man and an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. She kept her face downcast. He was twenty-nine at the time, practically an old man. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. He sprung out of the driver’s side and ran to her door. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work.
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