Explore "My Lady Bountiful" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The organ stood back with the bank of flowers behind it exactly as it had done in the cell at Caradoc. Kathleen sat there dreaming as Margaret's fingers wandered over the keys, her mind was far away as Dennison's fine voice sang some passionate Ave. She sat there still for a long time after the two young men had departed and the shadows had commenced to fall. From outside came the sound of the voices of the twins quarrelling over their game of tennis.
-"How material those girls are!" Kathleen said as she came to herself at length. "Margaret, I hardly heard you playing."