It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. I cannot explain beyond that. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't meddle with anything in that house. Wood. Suddenly he understood what had happened. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. ’ ‘Then you shall no longer do so. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive.
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