Wood. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. . Thankfully, he seemed pleased the moment he saw her face, which her mother had made her wash for weeks with the pulp of apples, orange water, and 21 extract of borage among other things. “You know nothing about the stage. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous. Two children, who had been caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay doubt and fear. “I don’t know. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself.
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