"I took it for granted you would mistrust me."

"For granted, sir? Have you been so much mistrusted?"

"I think I am justified in answering yes. But I may have mistrusted,
too, on my part. No matter just now. We were speaking of the Junction
last time. I have passed hours there since the day before yesterday."

"Are you now the gentleman for Somewhere?" she asked with a smile.

"Certainly for Somewhere; but I don't yet know Where. You would never
guess what I am travelling from. Shall I tell you? I am travelling from
my birthday."

Her hands stopped in her work, and she looked at him with incredulous
astonishment.

"Yes," said Barbox Brothers, not quite easy in his chair, "from my
birthday. I am, to myself, an unintelligible book with the earlier
chapters all torn out, and thrown away. My childhood had no grace of
childhood, my youth had no charm of youth, and what can be expected from
such a lost beginning?" His eyes meeting hers as they were addressed
intently to him, something seemed to stir within his breast, whispering:
"Was this bed a place for the graces of childhood and the charms of youth
to take to kindly? Oh, shame, shame!"

"It is a disease with me," said Barbox Brothers, checking himself, and
making as though he had a difficulty in swallowing something, "to go
wrong about that. I don't know how I came to speak of that. I hope it