His Love Story by Marie Van Vorst

When Sabron next opened his eyes he fancied that he was at home in / his old room in Rouen, in the house where he was born, in the little / room in which, as a child, dressed in his dimity night-gown, he had / sat up in his bed by candle-light to learn his letters from the / cookery book.

The room was snowy white. Outside the window he heard a bird sing, / and near by, he heard a dog's smothered bark. Then he knew that he / was not at home or a child, for with the languor and weakness came / his memory. A quiet nurse in a hospital dress was sitting by his / bed, and Pitchouné rose from the foot of the bed and looked at him / adoringly.