‘For my money, you’ll not get much out of old Jarvis either. I merely mention these circumstances to show the accuracy of my information. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. ” He asked questions and listened to her views for a time. But his words were borne away by the driving wind.
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