The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. " Other towers and spires—St. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust.
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