” His voice conveyed studied moderation. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. ” That phrase about dragging the truth through swamps of nonsense she remembered from Capes. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. "I did see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and his preserver! They were not struck by the fallen ruin, nor whelmed in the roaring flood,—or, if they were, they escaped as I escaped. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. She smiled.
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