Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact. ‘But I’ve known that for years. When I am leading a true life, a pure and simple life free of all stimulants and excitements, I think—I think— oh! with pellucid clearness; but if I so much as take a mouthful of meat—or anything—the mirror is all blurred. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself.
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