"I'm very glad, Elsie." "Yes--but I shudder when I think of a possible war in the future.

I'm going to raise boys, and girls, too, I hope--and the thought of war is torturing." Carley found her return train somewhat late, and she took advantage of the delay to walk out to the wooded headlands above the Sound.
It was a raw March day, with a steely sun going down in a pale-gray sky.

Patches of snow lingered in sheltered brushy places.

This bit of woodland had a floor of soft sand that dragged at Carley's feet.

There were sere and brown leaves still fluttering on the scrub-oaks.