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Marie took
with her to the convent, under the canvas lining of her trunk, the
results of a laborious and satisfying morning on Frank's part; no
less than a dozen photographs of himself, taken in a dozen different
love-lorn attitudes. There was a little round photograph for her
watch-case, photographs for her wall and dresser, and even long
narrow ones to be used as bookmarks. More than once the handsome
gentleman was torn to pieces before the French class by an indignant
nun.
Marie pined in the convent for a year, until her eighteenth birthday
was passed. Then she met Frank Shabata in the Union Station in
St. Louis and ran away with him. Old Tovesky forgave his daughter
because there was nothing else to do, and bought her a farm in
the country that she had loved so well as a child. Since then her
story had been a part of the history of the Divide. She and Frank
had been living there for five years when Carl Linstrum came back
to pay his long deferred visit to Alexandra. Frank had, on the
whole, done better than one might have expected.


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