She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. " "It is, indeed," replied Mrs. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially.
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