I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name. This time she tried to kill me with a dagger. “Well,” she said. On this second excursion, forewarned, she would use no light and keep as quiet as a mouse, she vowed, and thus refrain from attracting the attention of the militia at the gates. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand.
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