Neither was it one way, and I didn't intend at the start to stand by it an hour longer than I wished.

But she was more than I looked for, and it seems to me that she saved my life that winter, or my reason anyhow.

There had been so much tragedy that I used to wonder every day what would happen before night; and that's not a good thing for the brain of a chap of twenty-one or two.

The funny part of it is that she wasn't a pagan--not a bit.

She could read and speak English in a sweet old-fashioned way, and she used to sing to me--such a funny, sorry little voice she had--hymns the Moravians had taught her, and one or two English songs.