He was
the Man from Outside, and he sat near the bright wood-fire; for though it
was almost June the night was cool and he was delicate.
"Ah, but splendid, but splendid--it got into every corner of every one of
us," the Man from Outside responded, speaking his fluent French with a
slight English accent, which had a pleasant piquancy--at least to the
ears of the pretty singer, Mdlle. Zoe Barbille. He was a man of about
thirty-three, clean-shaven, dark-haired, with an expression of
cleverness; yet with an irresponsible something about him which M. Fille
had reflected upon with concern. For this slim, eager, talkative, half-
invalid visitor to St. Saviour's had of late shown a marked liking for
the presence and person of Zoe Barbille; and Zoe was as dear to M. Fille
as though she were his own daughter. He it was who, in sarcasm, had
spoken of this young stranger as "The Man from Outside."
Ever since Zoe's mother had vanished--alone--seven years before from the
Manor Cartier, or rather from his office at Vilray, M.
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