“That's what I've said. Look at this iron work, too—the stately andirons in that big fireplace, the shovel, the tongs, and the massive strop-hinges on the doors.”
“He did that, too?” she asked in amazement.
“Every piece of iron on the place he beat out with his own hand at his forge.”
“And all for the love of a woman? The age of romance hasn't passed after all, has it?”
“No.”
Mary paused before the window looking south.
“What a glorious view!” she cried. “It's even grander than yours, Doctor.”
“Yes. I claim some of the credit, though, for that. I helped him lay out the grounds.”
“Who is this remarkable man?” she asked at last.
“A friend of mine. I'll introduce him directly. He should be here at any moment now.”