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with the blocks on the pedals and the reconstructed drivers seat. Grays Store was famous for its ice-cream, frozen from domestic cream and seasonal finish according to a recipe said to have been left by a French noble man who travelled through Maine sometimes in the nineteenth century. Well stocked with cones and paper dishes of Grays incomparable peach ice-cream, we made [??] comfortable in one of the two cars, with parts of manuscripts spread out between us. A number of such meetings took place before Katharine was willing to give me a few chapters of that curious and beautiful book part of which came out in the Atlantic Monthly under the tile of "The Little Locksmith" ; to take home to read. "Don't even open it now," she said. "I want you to read it but not because I'm so terribly afraid you might not like it and I would see that in your eyes and that would weaken me. Take it home and go over it by yourself."
I took a different less fanciful view of