endeavoring to kiss Mrs. Cortlandt's hand, whereat she seized him
by the shoulders and shook him, crying:

"Stop that! Behave yourself and tell me what is the trouble,
quickly now, from the beginning."

Without drying his tears, Allan launched himself into the full
violence of his recital, stumbling recklessly over his figures of
speech, lapsing into idioms that it taxed his hearer to follow.
Had she been less acquainted with the Caribbean dialects she would
have missed much of the story, but, as it was, she followed him
closely, urging him on with sharp expressions of amazement and
nods of understanding. Rapidly she gathered the facts of the case,
while her cheeks whitened and her eyes grew dark with indignation.
The sight renewed Allan's emotion. His voice broke, his black
hands shook, he began to sob once more, and great tears stole down
his ebony cheeks. But he managed to answer her terse, shocked
questions with some degree of intelligence, calling upon his vivid
imagination for such details as his memory had lost.

"I wait an' wait for him to h'emerge, but he does not come.
Perhaps they 'ave killed the poor mon once more."

"How did you get here?"

"With my feet, mistress. Sometimes rode I on the train, but the
train people are very common; they h'addressed me rudely and threw
me by the wayside."

"Couldn't you telephone?"