Road was to be a highway constructed in such a fashion that airy bridges
would connect the lofty altitudes, and all below would exist merely as
views.

Her first thought, on the day following her interview with Margaret
Moffatt, was to get to John Boswell, and, as she laughingly put it, pay
off her debts!

Two hundred dollars and a full month's money from St. Albans! Gordon
Moffatt certainly could not feel richer than she. And then the months
ahead! Well--one could get dizzy on one's own heights. So Priscilla
calmed herself by a day of strenuous shopping and looked forward to the
evening with Boswell.

A dim drizzle set in late in the afternoon, and there was a chill in the
air that penetrated sharply. The mist transformed everything, and, to
tired, overexcited nerves, the real had a touch of the unreal. The park
glistened: the tender new green on tree, bush, and grass looked as if it
had just been polished, and the early flowers stood crisply on their
young stalks.

At the point where once she had met poor Jerry-Jo McAlpin, Priscilla
paused and was taken into control by memory and the long-ago Past. Quite
unaccountably, she longed to have her mother, even her father, know of
her wellbeing. Surely they would forgive everything if they knew just how
things had turned out for her! She almost wished she had decided to go
back to the In-Place before she started on her trip abroad. She could
have made them understand about her and poor Jerry-Jo. Was old Jerry
waiting and waiting? Something clutched Priscilla sharply. The loneliness
and silence of the Place Beyond the Winds enfolded her like a compelling