Yet ... if George had lied!
She sat up; sat up with both hands pressed to her ears, to shut out a sudden voice clamoring through them—
"And why not? A son's a son—curse you—though he was your man!"
(To be concluded in November.)
HEY NONNY NO
By Marguerite Merington
There is a race from eld descent,
Of heaven by earth in joyous mood,