‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U. You have been to see your sister, of course. Every moment or two he bent over his patient.
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