"Do I, dear?"
"Well, I guess! You keep on at poor old Geoff so he don't get a chance for a real proper chew."
"But then you see," said Ravenslee, "I would much rather talk than eat—sometimes."
"But say, Geoff—"
"Miss Hermione, you were asking how I met—"
"Hey, Geoff!" said Spike hoarsely.
"How I met your brother," continued Ravenslee, silencing the boy with a look. "Miss Hermione, I'll tell you full and freely." Here Spike took a gulp of tea and choked, also his brow grew clammy, and he stared with dilating eyes at Ravenslee, who began forthwith:
"Once upon a time, Miss Hermione, that is to say upon a certain dark night, a man sat alone, physically and mentally alone, and very wretched because his life was empty of all achievement—because, having been blessed with many opportunities, he had never done anything worth while. And as he sat there, looking back through the wasted years, this miserable fool was considering, in his wretched folly, the cowardly sin of self-destruction, because he was sick of the world and all things in it—especially of his own useless self! But I hope I don't—er—bore you, do I?"
"No," she answered a little breathlessly, gazing at him with eyes deep and tender; "go on—please go on!"
"Well," continued Ravenslee gravely, "Destiny, or Heaven, or the Almighty, taking pity on this sorry fool, sent to him an angel in the shape of—your brother."