And again her words revived me, and my eyes saw the light in the
sun-filled room. The Dean's daughter came over, and began talking to me;
I wished her ever so far away, and gave her short answers. And I
purposely kept from looking at her, for she had said that about my eyes
being like an animal's. She turned to Edwarda and told her that once,
somewhere abroad--in Riga I think it was--a man had followed her along
the street.

"Kept walking after me, street after street, and smiling across at me,"
she said.

"Why, was he blind, then?" I broke in, thinking to please Edwarda. And I
shrugged my shoulders as well.

The young lady understood my coarseness at once, and answered:

"He must have been blind indeed, to run after any one so old and ugly as
I am."

But I gained no thanks from Edwarda for that: she drew her friend away;
they whispered together and shook their heads. After that, I was left
altogether to myself.

Another hour passed. The seabirds began to wake out on the reefs; their
cries sounded in through the open windows. A spasm of joy went through
me at this first calling of the birds, and I longed to be out there on
the islands myself...

The Doctor, once more in good humor, drew the attention of all present.
The ladies were never tired of his society. Is that thing there my