“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. 238 < 30 > IN BED John drove her home after school nearly every day. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. \"Ohmigod Lucy, you are so uncool. She may have any number of wasting diseases, but they cannot survive in our bodies. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs.
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