I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. Now, in her old place, she was doing her best thoroughly to enjoy a most indifferent dinner. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions.
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