It's just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights.

I sort of feel they're never coming again, and I'm not really getting all I could out of them.

I wish my girl lived here.

But marry--not a chance.
Especially as father says the money isn't forthcoming as it used to be." "What a waste these nights are!" agreed Alec.
But Amory sighed and made use of the nights.

He had a snap-shot of Isabelle, enshrined in an old watch, and at eight almost every night he would turn off all the lights except the desk lamp and, sitting by the open windows with the picture before him, write her rapturous letters.
...