CHAPTER IX WHICH RELATES SOMEWHAT OF CHARMIAN BROWN
We were sitting in the moonlight.
"Now," said Charmian, staring up at the luminous heaven, "let us talk."
"Willingly," I answered; "let us talk of stars."
"No—let us talk of ourselves."
"As you please."
"Very well, you begin."
"Well—I am a blacksmith."
"Yes, you told me so before."
"And I make horseshoes—"
"He is a blacksmith, and makes horseshoes!" said Charmian, nodding at the moon.
"And I live here, in this solitude, very contentedly; so that it is only reasonable to suppose that I shall continue to live here, and make horseshoes—though, really," I broke off, letting my eyes wander from my companion's upturned face back to the glowing sky, once more, "there is little I could tell you about so commonplace a person as mysel
