“And so there is to be no more Hall of Sorrows,” said Chlorie softly.
“No, my darling.”
“It’s gone for ever?”
“Yes. It has served its purpose, but I don’t think its omission will bring more sin into Keemar.”
“I believe you are right, Alan. It was a terrible place, and sometimes I think the punishment was too great for the sin.”
A blue-eyed curly-haired girl ran into the room. Breathless and flushed, she clasped a doll in her arms, and hugged a pink-cheeked apple. She was followed by a bright, eager-faced boy of twelve or thereabouts.
“No, John Alan, I won’t marry you,” said she. “I am Acuci, and Ipso-Rorka, and you are only Ak.”
The children did not see the grown ups who were hidden by a curtain, and their childish chatter went on unheeded.
“You must marry me, Acuci—I love you, and papa says that love is everything.”
The little maid pouted. “I love you, John Alan, and I think I’ll marry you after all.”