Got detained in the City, and——” Then he met the fixed, breathless gaze of those wonderful eyes from the other side of the table, and he, too, broke off in the middle of his sentence. . The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. Then you will begin to see. 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. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. . .
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