4: May Norris
“AN’ WHEN YOU SAY THE MARROW, sir, you mean the present Squire Hunter?” Phil Bird questioned, putting the big glass back on the table.
Gees shook his head. “Acting for him as I am, it wouldn’t be fair,” he said. “Also, I prefer to form my own opinion, without help. Be guided by the impression he makes on me. No. Kir Asa.”
“I see-e.” He dragged out the comment, thoughtfully. “Well, sir, I dunno if you ever was out that way. If I might ask, now, what doyou know about the tales they tell of Kir Asa— for I don’t believe anyone ever got there to get the whole truth? They are only tales.”
“And yet,” Gees said, “I believe somebody did get there, once, and put the facts of the place in the form of a novel. Coloured them, altered them, maybe, but left enough truth for me to rememb
