"No! Dick. It is not." We strolled on, and after a pause, that seemed a little oppressive to me, he spoke again:—
"Andy mentioned a poor 'Miss Norah'—don't get riled, old man—and you both agreed that a certain young lady was the only one alluded to. Are you sure there is no mistake? Is not your young lady called Norah?" This was a difficult question to answer, and made me feel rather awkward. Being awkward, I got a little hot:—
"Andy's an infernal fool. What I said to him—you heard me"
"Yes! I heard you."
" was literally and exactly true. I never set eyes on Norah Joyce in my life. The girl I mean, the one you mean also, was one I saw by chance yesterday—and to-day—on the top of Knocknacar."
"Who is she?"—there was a more joyous sound in Dick's voice.
"Eh! eh!" I stammered. "The fact is, Dick, I don't know."
"What is her name?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know her name?"
"No."
"Where does she come from?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything about her, except this, Dick, that I love her with all my heart and soul!" I could not help it—I could not account for it
