Chapter 67 LORNA STILL IS LORNA

Although a man may be as simple as the flowers of the field; knowing when, but scarcely why, he closes to the bitter wind; and feeling why, but scarcely when, he opens to the genial sun; yet without his questing much into the capsule of himself-to do which is a misery-he may have a general notion how he happens to be getting on.

I felt myself to