“Surely!” he remarked, with an expression of worried appeal. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. Sheppard's good health, and success to him!" Baptist's toast was received with loud applause, and, as he sat down amid the cheers of the company, and a universal clatter of mugs and glasses, the widow's view was no longer obstructed. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage.
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