He seemed to know also by the same deductive process that he was attached to her.
"I do, indeed," said Morris, with a sad smile, thinking that if only the clergyman could look into his heart he would perhaps be somewhat astonished at the depth of that understanding sympathy.
"I told you," went on Mr.Fregelius, "and you laughed at me, that it was most unlucky her having sung that hateful Norse song, the 'Greeting to Death,' when you found her upon the steamer Trondhjem." "Everything has been unlucky, Mr.Fregelius--or lucky," he added beneath his breath.

"But you will like to know that she died singing it.

The aerophone told me that." "Mr.Monk," the old man said, catching his arm, "my daughter was a strange woman, a very strange woman, and since I heard this dreadful news I have been afraid that perhaps she was--unhappy.

She was leaving her home, on your account--yes, on your account, it's no use pretending otherwise, although no one ever told me so--and--that she knew the church was going to be washed away." "She thought you might think so," answered Morris, and he gave him Stella's last message.

Moreover, he told him more of the real circumstances than he revealed to anybody else.