The college provided a generous feast for the volunteers at the midday break. As the November day was fine and unusually warm, the meal took on a picnic-like quality, with chairs brought outside and large blankets spread upon the ground. They ate cold ham, chicken salad, apples, and fresh-baked rolls slathered with raspberry jam. Large jugs of cold-pressed cider were passed around. Concordia was grateful for a chance to sit down and catch her breath, with David beside her. They had been so busy that she had not seen him all morning.
As the assemblage lounged and chatted, Mr. Langdon made his way to the porch and cleared his throat for attention.
The crowd quieted.
“Thank you all, for the contributions of your time and goods,” he began, hooking his thumbs comfortably into the armholes of
