On the raw wound in his heart something that was almost like a cooling balm had been poured.
"God knows I'm sorry for you, Judy," he repeated; "we're both in the same boat, so I ought to be.

Come to me if I can ever help you, and you'll find you may count on my word." "I--I'll remember, Abel," she answered tearfully, but her thoughts were of a certain pair of purple velvet slippers, begun in rivalry of Blossom's black ones, which she was embroidering in pansies.
As he turned away from her into the crowd of silver willows beside the brook, she stood looking after him with the abstracted gaze of one who dwells not in the world of objects, but in the exalted realm of visions..