AN ADVENTURER 67 



black and white desert, sometimes turning the sharp edge 

 and going to the other side of the page; but as a rule the 

 edge alarmed it and it retreated; it was never still. It 

 reminded him of himself. They were both lost upon the 

 vast surface of the earth. 



But, of course, that was not why he left. Nobody 

 knew why he left. In his seventieth year he ran away, 

 bursting out of the crowd as one sheep no braver than the 

 rest will do sometimes, inexplicably. He has brought his 

 cats with him, and he has money enough to last until he is 

 dead. Being considered by his niece as of unsound mind, 

 he is free to do as he will and is happy when he is alone. 



F 2 



