There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. Only three days. "I have sent for him," Aliva, he answered; "he will be here directly, with your medical advisers. Why? Because he knew that when these two young people left, the island would become intolerable.
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