CHAPTER XXVII
But they did not get her back. July had passed, and August, and most of September, and they had not found Ann.
Heaven and earth were not so easily moved.
Katie had tried, and the man who mended the boats had tried, and Wayne, but to no avail.
There had come the one letter from her—letter seeking to save "Ann" for Katie.
It was a key to Ann, but no key to her whereabouts save that it was postmarked Chicago.
Those last three months had impressed Katie with the tragic indefiniteness of the Chicago postmark.
She had spent the greater part of the summer there, at a quiet little hotel on the North Side, where she was nominally one of a party of army women. That was the olive branch to her Aunt Elizabeth on the chaperone question. For her own part, she had seen too many uncha
