shall feel relieved . . . Heavens, how difficult words are!"
"And yet you are accustomed to speak for hours! . . ."
"That's a different thing. Then some one else is speaking inside me. When I myself am speaking, in everyday life, I find words difficult."
"Then don't make the least effort, but tell me . . . gradually."
"What did Addie think? I should like to know."
"He was disappointed, but he did not say much."
"He's a serious boy, isn't he? Tell me about him."
She felt no more fear and talked about Addie. Brauws laughed, gently and kindly, at the pride that kept shining from her:
"I was a serious child too," he said.
And she understood that he was making an effort, in order to talk about himself.
"I was a strange child. Behind our house was a pine-forest, with hills in it; and behind that a little stream. I used to wander all day long in those woods, over the hills and beside the stream. They would miss me at home and look for me and find me there. But gradually they stopped being frightened, because they understood that I was only playing. I used to play by myself: a lonely, serious child. It's true I played at highwaymen and pirates; and yet my games were very serious, not like a child's
