"Why," he broke in, "they haven't been annoying you, have they? I hope they haven't done that!"
"Not at all. I merely had a curiosity to know why they bear such unusual names."
He smiled.
"They told you their names, did they?"
"They were good enough to commend me for the way I played Indian," I explained, and he gave me another of his quick comprehensive glances.
"It's rather a long story you've asked for," he said.
"I am interested in stories," I put in.
"Beppo said you made pictures," he mused.
"In words," I added.
He paused again. It seemed to be a part of his mode of thinking, this occasional parenthesis of silence. It was almost as though the man were leading me down a vast and dimly-lit corridor, laying his hand at times on various doors, and then withdrawing it, from some mysterious motive, and continuing upon his way.