Come and look at the list of books I have made for Mr.
MacNairn." I did as he told me, but I felt as if I were walking in a dream.

My mind seemed to have left my body and gone back to the day when I sat a little child on the moor and heard the dull sound of horses' feet and the jingling metal and the creak of leather coming nearer in the thick mist.
I felt as if Angus were in a queer, half-awake mood, too--as if two sets of thoughts were working at the same time in his mind: one his thoughts about Hector MacNairn and the books, the other some queer thoughts which went on in spite of him.
When I was going to leave the library and go up-stairs to dress for dinner he said a strange thing to me, and he said it slowly and in a heavy voice.
"There is a thing Jean and I have often talked of telling you," he said.
"We have not known what it was best to do.

Times we have been troubled because we could not make up our minds.

This Mr.Hector MacNairn is no common man.

He is one who is great and wise enough to decide things plain people could not be sure of.