It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. " "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. " "Horrible!" cried Mrs. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. . What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. All the same, I don’t admit it. To-morrow they will know the truth.
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