“I am afraid I don’t understand a word you are saying,” I answered
smiling.
For answer he opened the book and read Saint Teresa’s curious gasping
incoherent sentences––at least so I thought them.
“Still,” I said, “I am afraid––––”
“Oh,” he said almost impatiently, “surely you know now; indeed you know
it, but do not recognise it.”
“Can you give me any sort of instance?” I asked.