The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. That is what marriage is to most young women: the ultimate escape from the family, from the unwritten laws that govern children. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. He built her the most beautiful castle 242 in the world in the desert, carving fountains where real water ran and gardens in a place where no plant had ever bloomed. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. “And somehow or other,” she added, after a long interval, “I must pay Mr.
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