They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. “Yes. But for him——” Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. ” “And for me,” Anna echoed. ” “What is it that I should plan for in life?” “Life itself is glorious enough. He turned the water off and handed her a towel.
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