Page:Stevenson and Quiller-Couch - St Ives .djvu/31

 the impulse that had made her bring and introduce him, I could not sufficiently admire it. It seemed to me finer than wit, and more tender than a caress. It said (plain as language), "I do not and I cannot know you. Here is my brother—you can know him; this is the way to me—follow it."