"Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. ” She said. Does it?” “I think it does. 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. "How is Mr. . “I have to go out. To fall upon those tales for the first time, when the mind was fresh and the heart was young! He became aware of an odd phase to this conversation. come. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee.
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