It was only an episode, but it brought in the weirdness of the moor and my childish fancies about the things hiding in the white mist, and the castle frowning on its rock, and my baby face pressed against the nursery window in the tower, and Angus and the library, and Jean and her goodness and wise ways.

It was dreadful to talk so much about oneself.

But he listened so.

His eyes never left my face--they watched and held me as if he were enthralled.

Sometimes he asked a question.
"I wonder who they were--the horsemen ?" he pondered.