Saturday, July 21, 2012
GEOFFREY Hardin was seated in his comfortable easy chair, drawn close to the crackling logs in the old New England fireplace. He was gazing dreamily at the flames as they leaped about from log to log, now enveloping them in a merry blaze, now lapsing into drowsy inactivity. From his long
quaint pipe, widening circles of pale gray smoke were followed by a thin trailing vapor. This too,
vanished, leaving only its mellow fragrance in the air. His pipe had gone out.
quaint pipe, widening circles of pale gray smoke were followed by a thin trailing vapor. This too,
vanished, leaving only its mellow fragrance in the air. His pipe had gone out.
