’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. She had expected a love story; and love was totally absent. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. At last—I told a story. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth.
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