As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. Then he sat down and filled his pipe slowly and thoughtfully. I know all about it. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. I’ve made up my mind.
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