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 from their road of yesterday, and were upon a saner highway among more amiable hills that she asked him why he was so quiet.

"If you do not talk to me I must think one of two things."

"What two things?"

"Either that you are not well or that you are angry with me."

"Not at all. I am perfectly well."

"Ah, so?" she said. "Why are you angry with me?"

"I'm not angry."

"What then?"

"Nothing!"

She looked at him, considering him thoughtfully; but he did not meet her eyes;—instead, he sat staring moodily before him. "My dear," she said, "you remember something I once told you of the great effect places may have upon people? I told you that Africa might make a change in you—and already it has."

"Not at all."

She laughed sadly. "Yes, you would say not. But you are like the man I told you of. Do you remember? He went upon a high mountain, and when