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. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. "But you are tired!" "I want to go over the story again.
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