" "And you want me to find a minister?" she asked, with ready comprehension. “Sorry to be so terribly rude, Martin. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. But as the students sat about Miss Garvice’s tea-pot and drank tea or smoked cigarettes, the talk got away from Capes. But it was otherwise with the carpenter. The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again the things she saw.
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