To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?.
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