You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. The latter were saved; but of the former nothing but the blackened stone walls were found standing on the morrow. This adventure of yours has gone on altogether too long; it has become a serious distress to both your aunt and myself. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. Burn your palette and your easel. But to plunge blindly into the unknown!" "I had to! I had to!" She had told him only the first part of her story.
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