If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. Just now the waterchestnuts…. Spurling. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. I could never make you understand.
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