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She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. ” He looked at her pleadingly. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. She would not forgive me. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year.
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