He had said so. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. "Come and sit down by me. Upon which Mrs. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas.
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