the white roofs, showing like flakes of silver through the sea of dark jungle. For some time neither of us spoke. Then it was Alie who began the conversation.
"Dr. De Normanville," she said,—and it must not be thought conceited on my part to repeat it,—"I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the way in which you have taken up your work of mercy. I cannot say what I would like to do, because my heart is too full for utterance; but if you could only realise what a relief it is to me to know that you are here to conduct matters, you would understand something of the gratitude I feel."
I uttered some commonplace reply, all the time watching the wistful look upon her face. Then she said suddenly:
"We have scarcely known each other three days yet, but somehow I feel as if, despite all you have heard of me, you are my friend."
"And you are quite right in so feeling," I said. "Believe me, I have forgotten all the foolish stories I have heard about you."
"No, no! I don't know that you ought to do that," she continued, "because, you see, a great number of them are true."
"You wish me to remember them, then?" I cried, in some surprise.
"Yes!" she answered. "I think you ought to get a clue for your own guidance out of them. But in saying that, I wish you to understand why I do so. To do that involves my telling you my history. Are you too tired to listen to it to-night?"
"Of course I am not," I answered quickly, only too
