CHAPTER XX. She was fine and tender. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. Tell Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is.
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