Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. She throws a sort of spell over us all. He sent me home. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. “It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind. She’s already spoken for. Much too young for you.
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