She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. She would not let her move. —You've your answer, Blueskin," he added, pushing that individual, who seemed unwilling to depart, towards the door; "it's useless to urge the matter further. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill.
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