" "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum.
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