"Five years."
"And you've been here ever since?"
"Ever since."
Oh, the hopelessness of the words, the bitterness of the face!
Involuntarily Peace turned her eyes away, and as her glance fell upon the delicate bloom of the lilac bushes beside her, she began to hum under her breath, "Oh, you lovely lilacs, growing up so high."
"Sing to me," commanded the lame girl imperiously.
"Sing? I can't sing! All I can do is whistle."
"But you were singing just now."
"I was humming."
"Don't quibble!" A faint smile smoothed away the hard lines about the young mouth. "Please sing that little tune for me. I have heard you so often in the garden and that seems quite a favorite of yours, but I can never make out the words."