CHAPTER VI.
"I could make love--yes, and since you tell me to try, I will." He came and stood before her, straightening his diminutive figure in a comical fashion as though he were imitating a soldier on parade.
"In the first place," he said, "in order to appreciate my skill, you should realise the immense disadvantages under which I labour.

I am a dwarf, my dear Unorna.

In the presence of that kingly wreck of a Homeric man"-- he pointed to the sleeper beside them--"I am a Thersites, if not a pigmy.

To have much chance of success I should ask you to close your eyes, and to imagine that my stature matches my voice.

That gift at least, I flatter myself, would have been appreciated on the plains of Troy.