Editor. If I were Robert I should certainly start at once.
Author. No, I have it.)
As he sat there, his thoughts flew over the bridge of years, and he was wafted on the wings of memory to other and happier Yuletides. That Christmas when he had received his first bicycle....
That Christmas abroad....
The merry house-party at the place of his Cambridge friend....
Yuletide at the Towers, where he had first met Alice!
Ah!
Ten hours passed rapidly thus....
(Author. I put stars to denote the flight of years.