155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. Wood, was examined. So they fenced with smiles. Her hand grasped it firmly, and she pushed herself forward. ‘The truth is, Everett,’ she said brightly, limping up to the general and tucking a hand in his arm, ‘that the girl is you all over again. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it.
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