The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. “Martin, I don’t know what to say. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding.
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