She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. “I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. "Do not shed more blood," cried the carpenter. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. 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.
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