and he remembered it, just as he remembered the blood on the
photographs that she had bought in Alinari's shop. It was not
exactly that a man had died; something had happened to the
living: they had come to a situation where character tells, and
where childhood enters upon the branching paths of Youth.

"Well, thank you so much," she repeated, "How quickly these
accidents do happen, and then one returns to the old life!"

"I don't."

Anxiety moved her to question him.

His answer was puzzling: "I shall probably want to live."

"But why, Mr. Emerson? What do you mean?"

"I shall want to live, I say."

Leaning her elbows on the parapet, she contemplated the River
Arno, whose roar was suggesting some unexpected melody to her
ears.



Chapter V: Possibilities of a Pleasant Outing

It was a family saying that "you never knew which way Charlotte
Bartlett would turn." She was perfectly pleasant and sensible
over Lucy's adventure, found the abridged account of it quite