It was a rough night sleeping for both men after Lucas's nightmare, but eventually, sleep came. In fact, Nathan slept so soundly that he didn't hear his guest roaming about the house. He didn't hear as Lucas drew his bath and got ready for church. He didn't hear him run a load of laundry in the new ringer washer that Grant had bought from the Yosts the previous fall. And he didn't hear an early morning conversation between Lucas and Mike concerning the latter bringing over some of Lucas's things. It wasn't until he heard music and smelled sausage frying in a pan that he opened his eyes.

Stumbling into the hall, he yawned, rubbed his neck, and made his way down the stairs, surprised to see Bouchard had prepared a hearty breakfast of biscuits, sausage and gravy. Nathan didn't have the heart to tell him that Johann Strauss's Egyptian March was not the kind of thing he wanted to wake up to, although it did have a way of getting the blood pumping.

He watched as Lucas took a pan of fresh biscuits out of the oven and set them on the stovetop. He never imagined Bouchard as a cook and just assumed, since Gustave prepared most of his meals, even when going home at night, that he couldn't cook. From what he could see, however, he was doing very well.

"Nathan!" Lucas said, raising his hand to his chest.

"Sorry," Nathan said, stepping forward to help. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Lucas grinned slightly and shook it off. "It's fine," he said, stepping toward the table. "I've made you some breakfast before the morning service."

"I can see that. It looks delicious," Grant said, taking a seat at the table. "What time did you get up?"

"I've been awake since three-thirty, or, more accurately, never went to sleep," Lucas said as he emptied the biscuits into a basket with a cloth inside and brought them to the table. "I generally sleep six to eight hours, but after that dream, I was tossing and turning so much, trying to remember more… I finally decided to get up. I took a bath – washed the tub out after, so it's ready for you if you need it – I did some laundry."

"Wait, you did laundry?" Nathan asked right as he was about to take a sip of coffee.

"Just the blues. That's all I had time to do. I let your clothes dry by the stove, then ironed your shirts. Your light blue dress shirt is hanging in the closet if you'd like to wear it for the morning service. It'll go well with the grey suit. Everything else is neatly folded inside that basket, ready to be taken back to your room."

"Lucas... "

"Listen, Nathan, I know that you didn't ask for this, and in my current state, I'm a bit of a burden to be around right now. I assume you won't let me pay you board."

"That's right."

"So, I'd at least like to earn my keep. It's only fair."

"Lucas, you don't have to. Seriously," Nathan said, taking a sip of coffee.

"I want to," Lucas replied. "Besides, I haven't had a roommate since college. It should be fun."

Nathan nodded. He knew there was no sense in arguing. "This coffee is really good. What did you do?"

"Made it with a French press," Lucas replied, looking over toward the counter. A slightly smug grin appeared on his face. "My friend, Marcel from New Orleans, worked in one of the finer restaurants on Bourbon Street. He taught me how to use it. He is a genuine Frenchman similar to Gustave, but il n'est pas si grincheux – which means…."

"He's not that grumpy?" Nathan asked.

Lucas looked surprised. "You speak French?"

"Un peu," Grant replied. "They had us take French in Mountie training. I'm not what you might call fluent, but I know enough to follow the flow of what's being said."

"That makes sense," Lucas nodded, then looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, I guess I must be going. I'm supposed to be at Elizabeth's in five minutes. The three of us are going to walk to church."

"You're not staying and eating?" Nathan asked.

Lucas looked at the food and then shook his head. "Don't really have an appetite right now, but I hope you enjoy." Bouchard walked toward the door, stopping at Nathan's clock and comparing the time with his pocket watch. He adjusted the minute hand. "Did you know this clock runs fast?"

"Yeah," Grant nodded. "Picks up about three to five minutes every few weeks. I'm always having to reset it."

Lucas raised his eyebrows and looked inside at the works. "It probably just needs adjusting. I could look at it if you like later today."

"Sure, if you want," Nathan replied, watching.

"Great!" a pleased Bouchard said, walking toward the door. "My parents and I are supposed to have a talk with Dr. Bennett after the services today, so I won't be back until later."

"Me too," Nathan replied. "Kurt Lawson wanted me to stop by his place after church to check on some security, so I'll probably be back late."

"Is there a problem?" Lucas asked.

"Nothing big. Seems someone keeps stealing his chickens. Stole three hens last night."

Lucas pondered that briefly, then grinned. "I'd check the Wolfs."

Nathan shook his head. "He doesn't think it's an anima….oh, I get it….not wolves, Wolfs. Funny. I won't tell Robert's dad you said that."

Lucas chuckled. "Thank you. I'll see you in church."

As Lucas shut the door, Grant took a bite of sausage. Perfectly cooked. Maybe this experience would be better than he thought.

Lucas reached Elizabeth's rowhouse and immediately took her into his arms, not for a kiss but for a hug more fervent than they'd ever shared. Instinctively, she knew that he only wanted to be held, needed to be close, needed to feel the connection they had in a way that was not romantic, but which reflected the union their souls already shared. He laid his cheek on her shoulder, and only when Jack's feet were heard coming down the stairs did he release her. This was still the man she fell in love with, albeit laid a little more bare. She saw in his eyes the pain that the years had engraved and was determined to do her part to heal him.

"Hey, buddy!" Jack said, rushing into the living room. "Are you feeling better?"

Lucas scooped him up in his arms and hugged him. "I certainly am, especially thanks to the visitor you sent my way." He took Dog out of an inside jacket pocket and handed him to the boy. "He did everything you told him to do. And now I give him back to you. I think he missed you, and so did I."

Jack smiled and wrapped his arms around Lucas's neck, giving him a tight hug. "I knew he would. I always put Dog in my pocket when I am lonely or scared. All I have to do is rub his belly, and he makes me feel better."

XXXXX

"Lucas, hurry! Mother is going to be upset if we are late for the party!" Jenny said, knocking on Lucas's bedroom door.

"Tell her I don't feel well, and I'm not going."

There was a pause outside the door. "Are you really sick?"

Lucas shook his head, even though she couldn't see him behind the closed door. "I didn't say I was sick. I said I didn't feel well. There is a difference."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "This is about your tooth, isn't it?"

Lucas stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom and bared his teeth, revealing a gap on the front right side. His chin quivered.

"Lucas! This is silly. Open the door! Lucas?"

"Jenny, I don't want to go. They're going to mock me!"

"They are not going to mock you! Everyone loses their teeth. I think one of mine is getting loose. It's part of growing up!"

"I don't want to grow up!"

"Lucas!"

All was silent for the next couple of minutes, then Lucas heard Jenny's tale tell soft knock on his door.

"Lucas, open the door. I have something for you. I promise it will make it better."

Several seconds passed then Jenny heard the key in Lucas's door turn. A moment later, his solemn face appeared.

"Let me see," she said.

"I don't want to."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to. I just want to see."

Lucas opened his mouth, and she rolled her eyes again. "Just as I'd imagined. Absolutely nothing to be upset over. Here. Take this." Jenny reached into her pocket and fetched out a small wooden bird. It was a gift to her from their cousin Henri on their last trip to Montreal. He had carved it himself.

"You're handing me 'Oiseau'?"

"Yes. Just put him in your pocket and if anyone says anything or you're feeling alone, stick your hand in your pocket and rub his belly. See how smooth he is? I promise it will make you feel better."

XXXXX

Lucas was awakened from his daydream when Jack did something he'd never done before. He kissed him on the nose. This both surprised and delighted Bouchard. He smiled and winked at Elizabeth. This was his family, married or not, and he needn't ever worry about being alone again. Oh, how he longed to make it official.

The trio chatted and laughed as they made their way toward the church. Up ahead, they could see Lee and Rosemary speaking with the Davises. There appeared to be a small dispute that seemed settled by the time they reached the church door.

"I wonder what that was about?" Lucas pondered.

"I don't know," she replied, hoping that her gut feeling was wrong and that it wasn't over him.

All questions were answered once they'd reached the sanctuary. Upon entering, a hush came over the congregation. Lucas stopped at the doorway as several eyes turned toward them. He watched as a couple of mothers pulled their children closer to their side, and a look of distrust appeared throughout the room. He looked to Elizabeth with concern. She gripped his hand.

Minnie appeared, and then Mike, and they warmly greeted the couple with a hug and handshake, and then Lucas, Elizabeth, and Jack made their way to their place in the second row. About ten feet before they reached their seats, Lucas heard a woman whisper Doesn't she realize she's putting her child at risk? His heart began to pound in his ears.

Elizabeth slipped into her seat, and Lucas turned his head to look at the crowd. Upon seeing their glares, he suddenly couldn't breathe.

"Lucas?"

He paused only briefly, then leaned toward. "I apologize. I need to go. I'm suddenly not feeling well."

She began to scoot back out from the pew. "I'll go with you."

"No," he replied. "Please, stay. I'll be fine."

Nathan watched as Bouchard quickly turned around and left the building. He was going to go after him when he saw Dr. Bennett, who was sitting by Faith, get up and follow him, So, he stayed seated.

Not wanting to allow room for congregants to begin speculating and gossiping amongst themselves, Joseph immediately called Angela up to play a song.

Bennett walked outside but was surprised to see Bouchard had disappeared. Knowing it was impossible for him to have vanished, he descended the stairs and turned the corner. Finding Lucas leaning against the side of the building, breathing heavily with his head in his hand, he went to join him.

"Lucas? Is everything alright?"

"They're all looking at me. They hate me. I've ruined everything."

The church door opened again, and footsteps approached. "Lucas!" Elizabeth's voice was heard over the congregation singing Amazing Grace. She walked a few steps and saw Dr. Bennett to her right, and then turned the corner and saw Lucas. She rushed to his side.

"Lucas, darling, are you alright?"

Lucas glanced up at her and slowly shook his head. "I needed to get some air. I apologize for any embarrassment I caused. Where's Jack?"

"I left him with Rosemary. Lucas, you didn't embarrass me! Was it over those women?" His look toward the ground told her what she needed to know. "I had no idea it would be this bad!"

Lucas's eyes turned toward her. "You knew?'

"I knew Florence had been running her mouth. But honestly, Lucas, most of the people have been very concerned about you. They are fully on your side. They've all been asking about you and telling me they've been praying for you and that they hope to see you soon. Mrs. Grady even suggested that the two of us could join her and her husband over at Albert Falls over Spring break for a play date with her boys. I told her I'd ask you, but…Lucas, people care for you. There are only a few spoilers in there – and trust me, our pastor is going to be dealing with them."

Lucas frowned. "Joseph?"

"Don't worry," she replied. "He will be discrete. But he must deal with it. Their gossiping tongues don't just affect you. They affect the health of the church and the community."

Lucas considered her words carefully and then nodded. "I concede that is true. But I wish you would have told me. I could have been more prepared."

"I'm sorry," she replied, taking his hand. "I should have. I just didn't want to hurt you. Will you forgive me?"

Lucas smiled softly and then squeezed her hand. "There's nothing to ask forgiveness of, Mon Amour. I know in the eyes of some, it's natural that I would be seen as a pariah. They may never change their mind. But if it's just those few, we can manage that. What I don't want is to ruin your life. You didn't ask for this and…."

"Neither did you," she interrupted. "Lucas, it's not your fault."

He shook his head and stepped away from the building. "No. But it is my lot. It doesn't need to be yours."

"What if I want it to be mine?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Then you are a strange woman."

"You're just now figuring that out?" she teased.

Lucas turned his head to her and smiled. He walked to her and gave her a kiss, then turned to Dr. Bennett. "I'm better now," he said.

"Good," Bennett said. "That's what open communication can do."

Bouchard shook his head. "I know that being open is not something that I've been good at in the past. But I realize now it's of great importance. I want to try to change that aspect of myself. At least with those that matter, where it is appropriate."

"I'm glad to hear that. It should make our family counseling session with your parents more productive this afternoon. You are still coming, aren't you?"

Lucas squeezed Elizabeth's hand and shook his head yes. "But I don't want to wait until then to begin dealing with some things."

"What do you mean?" Bennett asked.

"Everyone thinks I'm fragile, that I'll just break if they don't treat me with kid gloves. I don't want to be shielded. I don't want to be mollycoddled. If there is an issue, I want to confront it head-on so we can move past it."

"You're ready to go back inside?" Elizabeth asked.

Lucas shook his head. "I don't want to be a distraction in the service. I will face the colosseum later."

"What do you want to do?" Bennett asked.

Lucas looked toward town. "I want to visit the Queen of Hearts to see where it all happened."

"It's good to see you all here, and it's my hope that God will speak to you through this message.

All stand for the reading of God's Word," the pastor said, looking out at the people from this community who came to the service that morning. His heart was heavy with the burden of what he saw in this congregation he loved. In all his life, Joseph Canfield had never met a people so welcoming and generous as those in Hope Valley. But in recent days, a destroying spirit had entered the church. It was a spirit with whom Joseph knew he must do battle for the health of this Christian body. And so, he came with the "Sword of the Spirit" in hand, the Holy Bible, to do just that.

"Psalm 34:18 - The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.

Joseph paused as he watched everyone take their seats and grow still, their eyes focused on him. Speak through me, Lord, he prayed silently and then cleared his throat.

"Please turn in your Bibles to Luke chapter 10, verses 33 through 37. The title of my message today is, 'More Than Simple Love'.

And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

And by chance, there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise, a Levite…looked on him, and passed by on the other side.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him…. and took care of him.

Thank you. You may be seated."

The Queen of Hearts saloon was closed on Sundays, no alcohol being served in observance of the Lord's Day. The restaurant portion of the establishment would open for a few hours later that evening so that Hotel Guests could have dinner. However, at ten-thirty on a Sunday morning, it was pretty much desolate. It was a surreal feeling entering the building with nobody milling about, no laughter, no talk, no clanging dishes, just an empty, barren cavern devoid of life. All the workers had the morning and afternoon off, with the exception of Gustave, who was busy in the kitchen making use of any perishable items or leftovers from the previous night. Last night's baked potatoes became today's potato croquettes, stale bread was made into croutons and used in onion soup, and fresh vegetables were used up to make a delicious Ratatouille. Nothing went to waste.

Elizabeth held Lucas's hand tightly as she, Lucas, and Dr. Bennett entered the room. Lucas looked around the building, which, thanks to a fire the previous year, had experienced a makeover – now sporting dark blue-green walls and leather booths and emphasizing the hotel more than the bar. He had changed the character of the place, turning it into more of a family establishment as opposed to a place where workers would go to have a beer after a long day's work.

Lucas let go of Elizabeth's hand as he walked to the bar, silently scanning the area.

Gustave, having heard people enter, came out of the kitchen. He looked toward Elizabeth with concern, but she nodded reassuringly as the three watched to see how being in that spot would affect Bouchard.

"Now, to the Hebrews, the Samaritans were a bunch of heretics – and visa-versa," Joseph continued. "They had a different set of doctrines, worshipped someplace other than Jerusalem, and were basically people the Jews didn't trust. The Samaritans pretty much felt the same way toward the Jews – which is what makes this parable all the more interesting.

Christ speaks of a traveler who was walking outside Jericho when he was set upon by thieves. How often is that man us? We walk through life doing our usual activities – then something happens. Someone or some event comes along and does something to rob us of our blessings. We lose the job, or the crop fails, or the house burns, or, something quite close to this community- the disaster strikes, taking with it husbands and sons, hopes and dreams. In one moment, the life we knew is over. And we're left behind, desolate, wounded, and in some cases, left for dead.

It's during those times when we need some compassion.

In this passage, we see the reaction that three men had to this wounded fellow. The first two are religious figures, a priest and a Levite. The priest was like the pastor, leading religious services in the synagogue, and the Levite was a helper. He did many of the practical tasks. Both held highly respected positions and, no doubt, were respected in the community. But when they saw this man who was a victim of other men's crimes, rather than minister to the other man, they walked to their safe spot on the opposite side of the street. They rejected him.

Oh, I'm sure seeing someone in that condition was upsetting. They probably went home and told their family and friends all about how awful it was, warning them to stay away from the area because of danger and perhaps warning them to avoid him. But in spite of God's law saying that they should help the man, they did nothing. They didn't even pray. If that was everyone's attitude, the man would have surely died.

I want you to think of a time when life's circumstances nearly destroyed you. Perhaps it's when your husband grew ill, or perhaps it's when you heard the explosion from that mine, and the mining company gave you the word that your husband was dead. You didn't ask for it. You likely didn't even deserve it, but it happened. And there you were, wounded, hurting, and left to pick up the pieces for yourself, your family, and this community.

A few of you have told me of some of those times and of how you felt at that time, how devastated this community was. Many of you were mothers who now had to care for children on your own. You didn't have a job. You had no experience outside the home, and here you were, a widow before your time. Some of you say you became angry. The bitterness and pain you felt were enough to overwhelm you. You became a different person. You were no longer the sweet, happy individual you once were. Everything had changed.

Now think with me, during that time, what would have happened if everyone had just turned their back on you – had crossed to the other side of the street? What would have happened if they would have said that person is too unpredictable – I'm just going to stay over here? What would have happened to you if there was nobody there to help you? Chances are, you would have died. Maybe not physically, but emotionally and, to some degree, spiritually.

Being a compassionate Christian means taking a risk and loving those who need your love. Sometimes it's loving a person it's not easy for you to love. Who wants to invest their time in an outcast?

Jesus. Jesus loved the outcast and had compassion on the lepers, the sick, the socially unacceptable. He took that risk, even though many of those people weren't in a position to give him anything in return.

He left us an example of this love in the Samaritan. Of all the people in the world to come to the rescue of a wounded Jewish traveler, it had to be a Samaritan! He took care of this stranger's wounds. He put the man on his own Model T donkey, then put him up in a room at the local hotel and paid the man's expenses. In short, he had compassion. Compassion is love in action. He wasn't just religious. He didn't just say he was a follower of God. He did something, and in doing something, he was a reflection of Christ.

Jesus said in the book of Matthew that when you do good toward one who is hurting or in need, it's as if you're doing it for him, but if you won't do good if you won't show compassion toward a needy soul, then it is as if you are doing that to Christ too. It's clear that if you are to live the Christian life, Christ-like compassion should come naturally to you.

Each of us has gone through trouble and trials in our lives, and we've faced things that, if it weren't for God sending people of compassion our way, we'd have gone under. We should be willing to do the same for others. If that's not where you are today, then turn from that path and make things right with God and your fellow man.

Please rise for the benediction."

"So, this is where it happened?" Lucas asked after a long period of silence. "This is where I killed the man who took Jenny from us?"

"So I've been told," Bennett replied. "Tell me, what are you feeling?"

Lucas paused for a moment to consider, then turned to the doctor. "I feel nothing. I still can't remember a thing about what happened. Is that normal?"

Bennett nodded. "It is perfectly normal for the mind to block out memories which it deems are dangerous to its own survival. The human body is amazing in that way. It self-protects."

"Will he ever remember?" Elizabeth replied.

"He may not," the doctor responded. "Or it could be in time that the memory returns. It's difficult to say."

"What if he does not? Might he go voom again?" Gustave asked.

"Voom?" Bennett asked.

"You know, VOOM!" the chef responded, making a large gesture with his hands.

Lucas sighed. "Gustave is wondering if the memory returns at a different time, might it cause me to explode and become violent again."

Pepin shook his head. "It is good to be préparément."

Bennett nodded. "It is extremely unlikely. To use an analogy that you will be familiar with, Gustave, repressing his feelings for so long, created an atmosphere within Lucas in which he became more or less like a pressure cooker. Speaking with other humans is like a gasket that lets off steam. Since nobody was willing to talk with him, the pressure was just permitted to build – but building pressure cannot be sustained indefinitely. Solomon Drake's death was that 'steam' being released. Lucas now has a fresh start, and I'm confident with therapy and the loving support of those around him, nothing like this will ever happen again."

"Lucas is, as you say, important to me," Gustave replied. "I will do whatever I can."

"You know what you could do for me?" Lucas asked, going behind the bar and looking through his stock of wine, finally finding a reserved bottle of Pinot Noir.

"Anything," Gustave replied.

Lucas stood. "Let me raid your kitchen."

"Pardon?" Pepin replied.

Lucas looked toward Elizabeth and winked. "I'm planning on making a special dinner tonight."

Nathan returned home just after dusk, tired from a day of looking for evidence of who was stealing the Lawson chickens and making sure that his coop was secured. He would have stayed for dinner, but Wilma Lawson was making liver and onions, which was one dish that Grant couldn't stand. He didn't even like the smell, which is something that he couldn't say about the smell coming through his door when he reached his house.

"Honey, I'm home," he joked, stepping into his living room and looking straight ahead to where Lucas was stirring something in a pot.

Lucas glanced to the side. "Good. Wipe your feet. Dinner is almost ready."

Nathan inhaled deeply. "Smells good. What is it?"

"Beef Bourguignon," Bouchard replied. "It's been cooking since two-thirty, so it should be done."

"Two thirty?" Grant asked, taking off his dirty shirt and draping it over a chair. "Wasn't that when you and your parents were supposed to be meeting with Bennett?"

"It got moved up. After I left the church, we went straight to the Queen of Hearts."

"Really? How did that go?" Nathan asked.

"Which? the session with my parents or seeing where everything occurred?"

"Both."

Lucas reached for a couple of bowls in Nathan's cabinet. "Seeing the saloon went fine. I still don't remember anything that happened, and being there feels exactly as it always did. The doctor says that's normal and didn't seem to worry about any future repercussions.

Sitting with my parents is a different thing. Father won't talk, mother won't listen, which frankly makes 'family therapy' a bit of a waste of time."

"Give it a little time," Nathan said. "They may open up."

Lucas ladled the stew into both bowls and then nodded to Nathan. "Wash your hands."

"Yes, dear," Grant replied, walking over to the kitchen sink.

Lucas sniffed, then looked slightly disgusted over at Grant. "What on earth have you been into?"

Grant smirked. "I've been crawling around a barn and a chicken coop. Sorry, I can't always smell like a gentleman."

Lucas shook his head. "Your job requires you to get dirty," he said, taking the bowls and pouring the contents back into the pot.

"What are you doing?" Nathan asked.

"Go get cleaned up. I'll wait for you. You'll feel better, besides."

Lucas's Bourguignon was impressive. In fact, it was better than what Gustave produced, which surprised Nathan. Bouchard explained it was a recipe from that same friend in New Orleans who now is the head chef at Antoine's, the oldest restaurant in the city. He asked that Nathan not tell Gustave, however, because he didn't want to hurt his chef's feelings.

"Cooking is a hobby that I've rarely had the time or patience to indulge in. Gustave's food is quite satisfactory. We'll leave the chefistry to him."

"Is that even a word?" Nathan asked.

"If it's not, it should be."

Later that evening, the two went to bed, and Nathan again fell fast asleep. He slept soundly until again, around three-thirty, he heard his housemate stirring around. He got up to investigate and found Lucas standing by the ringer washer, processing a load of laundry.

"Couldn't sleep?" Nathan asked.

Lucas shook his head.

"Another dream?"

Lucas nodded.

"Want to talk?"

Lucas paused. "Not really. Not every dream is bad. Some are quite lovely. They just cause me to miss her when I wake up. It's funny. We lost her when I was just a boy, but part of me still feels a connection. I guess it always will."

Nathan patted Lucas on the back. "Well, if you want to talk, I'm here. My sister was much older when I lost her, but we were close as well. I know it hurts."

Lucas smiled a wistful smile. "Thank you, Nathan."

"Anytime."

Grant went back to bed, wishing that there was something he could do in order to alleviate the pain that Bouchard was feeling. He considered Joseph's sermon and knew he was doing what he could. His friend wasn't alone, and he believed that Lucas knew that and appreciated it. Or at least he hoped he did. It bothered him that Bouchard somehow felt that he needed to earn his keep. Was that how his parents treated him? What a shame if they did. Nathan fell back asleep as Lucas worked through dawn.

Ned Yost covered his mouth with a yawn as he began readying things for mercantile to open. Although he was always an early riser, owning the store trained his body well- he was up by five-thirty every morning and ready to go by the store's opening at 8 A.M. However, this morning was different. It had been a rough night, with Florence tossing and turning most of it, and it would be some time before he had a chance to sleep again.

Perhaps another cup of coffee was warranted.

When Florence made her appearance a few moments later, Ned was sipping the hot brew and trying to clear his muddled head. He watched as she moved from one thing to another, not seeming to be able to focus this morning. "Florence dear, can I help you with something?"

Looking up as she heard his voice, Florence quickly walked over to her husband, wringing her hands. "Oh, Ned. I've made a dreadful mistake and feel terrible this morning, simply terrible. I simply have to fix things, and I know just what to!"