” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. Only your pa knew as how I were the one as saw to you at the wet-nurse’s cottage, and he got a-hold of me and made me bring him to you. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. “You look great, Lucy. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated.
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