He was a handsome man, and Lucy could see the strong resemblance of John to him. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again. I hardly see you anymore. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. They were both dressed in every respect alike. There were words, then, that ran on indefinitely, with reversals? Here they meant one thing; there, the exact opposite. "I cannot climb the boat.
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