She always brushed her hair back Sternly, twisting one small knot about the crown. He did not like the plain, broad brow. " I hate that tightness, " he would mutter to himself. But sometimes he would stoop to kiss her forehead And at midnight, hesitatingly, her lips, Surprised each time the way her arms would reach for him. When little Thomas had diphtheria at two, Her back was hourly bent abov...