She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. It would make the young wife unhappy. CHAPTER IX. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. . 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames.
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