He entered so softly that she did not hear him. There was no sound but the drowsy tick of the great clock in the hall and the low song of the fire.
She looked up quickly, the dream gone from her face, and in its place the light of love and perfect trust, and she stood still, her arms hanging at her sides—waiting.
"Sweetheart!"
God was good that Christmas.
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes
1. Punctuation normalized to be consistent with contemporary standards.
2. Table of Contents created for this text was not in original book.