In the night-watches he was overtaken with an idea, so simple and so luminous that he wondered he had never conceived it before.

It was full of craft.

He would seek Maisie on a week-day,--would suggest an excursion, and would take her by train to Fort Keeling, over the very ground that they two had trodden together ten years ago.
'As a general rule,' he explained to his chin-lathered reflection in the morning, 'it isn't safe to cross an old trail twice.

Things remind one of things, and a cold wind gets up, and you feel said; but this is an exception to every rule that ever was.

I'll go to Maisie at once.' Fortunately, the red-haired girl was out shopping when he arrived, and Maisie in a paint-spattered blouse was warring with her canvas.