"Took off my shoes and stockings and played in the lagoon."
"He made you wear shoes and stockings?"
"Always."
"What else did you do when alone?"
"I read the encyclopaedia. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. Books! Aren't they wonderful?"
The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. He envied her a little. To fall upon those tales for the first time, when the mind was fresh and the heart was young!
He became aware of an odd phase to this conversation. The continuity was frequently broken in upon by diversory suppositions. Take the one that struck him at this moment. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind?
"Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?"
"No. In the beginning was afraid; but after the first several cases, I had only pity. I somehow understood."
"Didn't some of them … try to touch you?"