The carpenter did not hesitate a moment. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. Perhaps it was just as well there was no inherited memory. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. “What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. ” “Oh. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey.
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