" "Then I owe my life to her?" "Positively. She's the boss. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. It just made me mad to the boiling point. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. He unlocked himself from her embrace. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. ’ He only laughed. And all the talk of the Miniver people and the Widgett people seemed always to be like a ship in adverse weather on the lee shore of love.
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