“I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. They hissed me!” “Beasts!” he muttered. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. “I wonder,” he said, “is there anything we could do to help you to get rid of him?” “Can you think of anything?” Anna answered. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. ‘Come, cry a truce. His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. The proposal is so far from being exorbitant, that it should be trebled if I had not a fellow-feeling in the cause.
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