If the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it as a sign that he did care a little. I’m sorry Lucy. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. "I'm come to say good bye to you, and to assure you of my safety before I leave this place. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative.
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