8. A widow for the fourth time, Mrs. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. And she felt that if she went home it was imperative to pay.
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