my face free of mud, and felt of me
here and there with trembling hands --
who was he?

And breaking out of the crowd of
men who had come running from the
street of stores and offices, was an-
other strange being, with a sort of bat-
tle light in his eyes, who, seeing me,
gathered me to him and bore me away
toward home. Looking back, I could
see the woman I knew following, lean-
ing on the arm of the boy with the roll-
ing eyes, whose eyes had ceased to roll,
and who was quite recognisable now as
Toot.

A happiness that was almost as ter-
rible as sorrow welled up in my heart.
I did not weep, or laugh, or talk. All
I had experienced had carried me be-
yond mere excitement into exultation.
I exulted in life, in love. My conceit
and sulkiness died in that storm, as did
many another thing. I was alive. I
was loved. I said it over and over to
myself silently, in "my heart's deep
core," while mother washed me with
trembling hands in my own dear room,
bound up my hurts, braided my hair,