"Solid ivory!" he said aloud; "solid from dome to neck! That's James Boyle in the family group. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. ” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed. She learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him. 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. ‘Say it. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed.
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