of a magazine—as she replied. The furnace is out of order, sir. I thought you knew.
Out of order! His spirits were soaring. If his luck continued he might be able to reconstruct a semblance of his quondam self. On second thought he recalled that Vera had announced this inconvenience earlier in the day. Now, however, it was evening.
But that was this morning, he objected aloud.
I know, sir. Jennie was engaged in expertly laying the fire. The man is still down there. He's acting very strange, sir.
Strange! How strange?
Well, while she was eating lunch, Mrs. Moody asked me to go see how he was getting along, and I did. He was reading a book, sir!
Reading a book!
Yes, sir. I came back and told Mrs. Moody and she thought it might be a recipe-book for fixing furnaces.
Good God! Paul tossed the magazine in his hand across the room. Have you been down since?
Twice, sir. Jennie applied the match.
Was he still reading?
The girl rose and brushed out her apron.
No, sir, she replied. The first time, he spoke to me, sir.
What did he say?
I don't know, sir. Something in a foreign language, sir.
