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It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. "I shall need little more. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. “I say!” he cried.
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