"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. " "I'm satisfied with your assurance," replied the carpenter, drily. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. His spirits began to rise. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. “Let me get you some water, Annabel.
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