Nothing else mattered now; nothing else counted: she knew that. I'd steal for him; I'd kill for him! she admitted to herself. For him I'd give up my family, my friends, my position, everything!
At the library she had the sensation that every one was staring at her.
Why, Mary, what is the matter? Miss Langley, one of the white assistants demanded.
Realizing the implications of this query, Mary was slow to reply. Apparently, the world was aware when one was in love.
What do you mean, Alice? she parried.
You look as happy as a humming-bird who has found a new flower, Alice explained.
My Lord, what a morning! was the refrain which ran through Mary's head, a refrain with a new meaning. The stars, indeed, had begun to fall!
I am happy, Alice! she confessed. I am happy. I don't know why; I'm just happy.
Alice's glance, Mary noted, was quizzical. However, she took up her position behind the desk, and said nothing more.
Mary, too, began her morning's work. Automatically, without argument, she passed One Increasing Purpose over the counter to a young girl who had inquired for it. So far as Mary's present mood was concerned, it might just as well have been a copy of A Passage to India or Those Barren Leaves. She repeated this carefree gesture with many more books for which on another occasion
