The vibrant, wistful cadence of her voice when she uttered the words "And tell them to be true," dropped down into the boy's sullen and lonely heart.

He did not look at her, but all the week he wondered about her.

He thought of her almost constantly, and the words she sang lay in his ears, soothing and healing like some subtle Oriental balm.

"On the wings of the morning light" was one haunting phrase--the other was, "And tell them to be true." The other prisoners had been touched.

Only one or two ventured coarse remarks about her, and they were speedily silenced by their neighbors.
Harold was eager to seek Jack in order to learn the girl's name, but Jack was at home, sick of a cold, and did not visit him during the week.
On the following Sunday she did not come, and the singing seemed suddenly a bitter mockery to Harold, who sought to solace himself with his pictures.