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She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. Lost ground must be regained. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. ” She said. Hours were spent in preparation for the event. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold.
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