There's nothing strange about it.
The buttons and the hooks and the eyes are all where they belong.

It's instinct, I suppose, from father's side--" "Probably.

I dare say I should understand the mechanism of a dress-suit, even if I'd never seen one," said the man, amused, yet impressed by her argument.
"I've always had visions of women dressed in this kind of clothing, white women--never natives--not dressed like this exactly, but in dainty, soft things, not at all like the ones I wear.

I seem to have a memory, although it's hardly that, either--it's more like a dream--as if I were somebody else.

Father says it is from reading too much." "A memory of what ?" "It's too vague and tantalizing to tell what it is, except that I should be called Merridy." "Merridy?
Why that ?" "I'll show you.