With three months of liberty I ought to make a start, though--if I could only get the necessary motif for it--the SOUL of the book." An idea whisked through Anne's brain with a suddenness that made her jump.

But she did not utter it, for they had reached the Moore house.
As they entered the yard Leslie came out on the veranda from the side door, peering through the gloom for some sign of her expected guest.
She stood just where the warm yellow light flooded her from the open door.

She wore a plain dress of cheap, cream-tinted cotton voile, with the usual girdle of crimson.

Leslie was never without her touch of crimson.

She had told Anne that she never felt satisfied without a gleam of red somewhere about her, if it were only a flower.