Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. \"Yes, uh, no. It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. . Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground; others were unroofed; the leads on the churches were ripped off, and "shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle.
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