"A goddess?" repeated my companion in her deep, soft voice, "that don't sound much like me."
"A goddess, very brave and strong, who despised all men and feared none!"
"That does sound more like me! Though I thought all goddesses were beautiful?" she added wistfully.
"So they were," I nodded, "but how do you know this?"
"From Jerry Jarvis—"
"What, the Tinker?" I exclaimed. "Do you mean the tinker who calls himself a 'literary cove'—the wonderful tinker who writes excellent poetry and travels about with a pony named Diogenes?"
"Yes, there be only one Jerry Jarvis," answered my companion. "'Twas Jerry taught me to write and lent me books to read. I've known him since I can remember and he was always kind. Jerry's a good man!"
"And writes real poetry!" I nodded. "At least I think so. I should like to meet him again."
"Well, he'll be Tonbridge way about now. I knows all his rounds an' he's reg'lar as a clock."
"Do you know the way to Tonbridge?"