The well of tears in her eyes was dry. We’ll have some buttered toast. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily. Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. She began to read, and presently she entered another world, and remained in it for two hours. Why he paid so much attention to Sir James Thornhill may be explained anon. You understand what I mean. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter.
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