Alpha Book

I, of course, could not
close the correspondence, so I ask you to do so without any fear
that you will fail to understand why I ask it. Will you?"
To which she replied:
"Yes, Phil. Good-bye.
"ALIXE."
A box of roses left her his debtor; she was too intelligent to
acknowledge them. Besides, matters were going better with her.
And that was all for a while.
Meanwhile Lent had gone, and with it the last soiled snow of winter. It
was an unusually early spring; tulips in Union Square appeared
coincident with crocus and snow-drop; high above the city's haze
wavering wedges of wild-fowl drifted toward the Canadas; a golden
perfumed bloom clotted the naked branches of the park shrubs; Japanese
quince burst into crimson splendour; tender chestnut leaves unfolded;
the willows along the Fifty-ninth Street wall waved banners of gilded
green; and through the sunshine battered butterflies floated, and the
wild bees reappeared, scrambling frantically, powdered to the thighs in
the pollen of a million dandelions.


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