Beryl,
she's going to make Norris take that invention----"
"Well, I never dreamed that old toy really amounted to anything--"
"---- ---- ---- ----"
"Beryl, don't you love the stars? _You're_ quiet now----"
Beryl giggled.
"Robin--I just remembered! Do you realize we gave our--Queen--_her own
book for Christmas_?"
"Beryl, as _sure_ as anything! Oh, how funny!"
EPILOGUE
A STORY AFTER THE STORY
In a hammock hung between two leafing apple trees, a woman lay, so very
still that she seemed sleeping. A fitful breeze stirred the pale foliage
over her head, now and then showering her with pink petals from the
lingering blossoms; from beneath her rose the damp sweet fragrance of
soft earth and green grass, nearby a meadow-lark sang plaintively;
somewhere a robin called arrogantly to his mate in the nest; from the
valley, stretching below the sloping orchard, a violet mist lifted.
A tender smile played over the lips of the reclining woman and her eyes
stared through the lacy canopy of green into the blue sky, where fleecy
clouds sailed off to the west and south.
A lingering echo went singing through her heart.
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