"Souls," she answered, drily. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. She glared at him with satisfaction. " Enschede stepped into the proa, and the natives shoved off. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. ‘Sir?’ Hilary threw a brief glance at Trodger, and quickly returned his intent gaze to the Frenchman, who had halted once more, and stood as if thinking deeply.
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