Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride. But I can give it its name now. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried.
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