CHAPTER VII.
THE BLOSSOM STORM At nightfall, with his telegram to Garry depressingly linked with a memory of winding, sodden, lonely roads, dripping woods and the clink of milk-cans, Kenny was summoned to the sitting room of Adam Craig.
A fire burned in the open fireplace.

Lamp-light softened the shabbiness of the old room and shone pleasantly on dark wood and a great many faded books.

Later Kenny knew that every book in the farmhouse was here upon his shelves.

Adam Craig sat huddled in a wheelchair.

Kenny thought of the runaway who hated him.