"He is," returned Quilt, significantly. “Carolyn loves ‘Fiddler on the Roof. “I think I ought to have one. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. ” “I resent!” “I was only sorry I’d been so stupid. ” “You see I do. Shalford says—the accidental conquering the essential. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things.
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