It was a sunny afternoon and a
little hazy; every line softened, every colour made richer
under the mellowing atmosphere.
"Now you can explain it all to me," said Thorold, as he threw
himself down. "You have walked too fast. You are warm."
"And you do not look as if it was warm at all."
"I! This is nothing to me," he said. "But perhaps it will
warm me and cool you, if we get into a talk. I want
explanations."
"About what, Mr. Thorold?"
"Well — if you will excuse me — about you," he said, with a
very pleasant look, frank and soft at once.
"I am quite ready to explain myself," I said. "But I am
afraid, when I have done it, that you will not understand me,
Mr. Thorold."
"Think I cannot?" said he.
"I am afraid not, — without knowing what I know."
"Let us see," said Thorold. "I want to know why you judge so
differently from other people about the right and the wrong of
hops and such things. Somebody is mistaken — that is clear."
"But the difficulty is, I cannot give you my point of view.
Pages:
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545