Chapter 5

When he came back he went into the garden. The moist buds were swelling on the cherry trees, and Priscilla’s perennials, many of them planted in her bridal days, were pushing green spears through the rich mold along the paths. He wandered about contentedly in the fresh, chill air, feeling a kinship with all the living, growing things about him. He was down on his knees by the day-lily plot when he heard the eastern gate swing back with its old, peculiar creak. Stephen hastily got upon his feet. A woman was coming t…