Elbow left.
'Why did you tell me you hadn't any stories you could bring?' Cicely asked, a touch of indignation in her voice.
'It was so. I didn't.'
'You had these.'
'No. I didn't. That's just it!'
'But you don't mean——'
'Yes! Just since I met you!'
'Ten stories, you said. It seems—I can't——'
'But it's true. Three days. And nights, of course. I've been so excited!'
'I never heard of such a thing! Though, of course, Stevenson wrote Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde in three days. But ten different stories.'... She sat quiet, her hands folded in her lap, very thoughtful, flatteringly thoughtful. 'It sounds a little like magic.'