" CHAPTER XIII. ‘Ah, grandpére. “Sold again,” she remarked. My Dad doesn’t want it necessarily, but he realizes that if he doesn’t give my 185 Mom this one it’s divorce for sure. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. “How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. “I’ve gotta go. The third item she took with a trembling hand by its waistbelt.
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