That Simeon Holly spoke of it at all showed how very far along HIS unfamiliar way he had come since the last letter from John had arrived.
"From--John?
Oh, Simeon! From John ?" "Yes." Simeon sat down and tried to hide the shaking of his hand as he ran the point of his knife under the flap of the envelope.

"We'll see what--he says." And to hear him, one might have thought that letters from John were everyday occurrences.
DEAR FATHER: Twice before I have written [ran the letter], and received no answer.

But I'm going to make one more effort for forgiveness.

May I not come to you this Christmas?
I have a little boy of my own now, and my heart aches for you.

I know how I should feel, should he, in years to come, do as I did.
I'll not deceive you--I have not given up my art.