Sister Madge, stirring him to ardent resolution.




Part Two

In Which We Light the New Log with the Embers of the Old




I

The Fire Again


"Doctor!" said little Roger slyly, "you got your chin stuck out!"

The Doctor stroked his grizzled beard in hasty apology.

"God bless my soul," he admitted guiltily. "I do believe I have. You've
been so quiet," he added accusingly, "curled up there by the fire that I
must certainly have gotten lonesome. And I most always stick out my chin
that way when I'm lonesome."

Roger, by way of reparation, betook himself to the arm of the Doctor's
chair.

The Doctor's arm closed tight around him. A year ago this little adopted