" "Rollo!" There were no locks or panelled doors in the bungalow; and Rollo was aware of it. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. She looked at him mournfully. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly.
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