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Flower of the Dusk by Myrtle Reed
page 34 of 323 (10%)
give the despairing ones new strength to go on. Just a little book, but
so brave and true and sweet and tender that it would bring the sun to
every shady place."

"Would you marry?"

[Sidenote: The Right Man]

"Of course, if the right man came. Otherwise not."

"I wonder," mused Roger, "how a person could know the right one?"

"Foolish child," she answered, "that's it--the knowing. When you don't
know, it isn't it."

"My dear Miss North," remarked Roger, "the heads of your argument are
somewhat involved, but I think I grasp your meaning. When you know it
is, then it is, but when you don't know that it is, then it isn't. Is
that right?"

"Exactly. Wonderfully intelligent for one so young."

Barbara's blue eyes danced merrily and her red lips parted in a mocking
smile. A long heavy braid of hair, "the colour of ripe corn," hung over
either shoulder and into her lap. She was almost twenty-two, but she
still clung to the childish fashion of dressing her hair, because the
heavy braids and the hairpins made her head ache. All her gowns were
white, either of wool or cotton, and were made to be washed. On Sundays,
she sometimes wore blue ribbons on her braids.

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