I have a vivid vignette in my memory of my return to my father's house, down through the pine woods and by the path across the deep valley that separated our two . I was thinking of Mary and nothing but Mary in all the world and of the friendly sweetness of her eyes and the clean strong sharpness of her voice. That sweet white figure of Rachel that had been creeping to an in my imagination was moonlight to her sunrise. I knew it was Mary I ............