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Updated: July 23, 2025
She meant to leave Nan reassured. "I go 'cross lots, by old Moosewood's steppin' stones." Nan withdrew her hands and thought absently how thin Tira's shoulders were under her dress. She was like a ship, built for endurance and speed, but with all her loveliness in the beauty of bare line. Tira put on her hat and took up her daffodils and followed, out at the front door and down the path.
Sort of gypsy tribe, shif'less." "Yes, that's it. She must have known them when she lived over there, before she married." "That's where we go, is it?" "No," said Nan, and now she wondered if she could keep her voice from getting away from her. "Stop where the cross cut comes out! Old Moosewood's stepping stones.
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