"Remember; we must keep the young fellow's thoughts away from himself. . “No. As she raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. He turned, expecting to see his wife. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom.
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