It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. "There won't be much left for you," he said. “My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. But he was wide awake. ‘Thanks to him, Hilary and I nearly had our heads blown off.
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