Sibyl's mother, even--a month before she died--told me that Myra's history, before she came to them, was as unknown to her as it was the day she stopped at their door." "I can't get over the feeling that I ought to know her--that I have seen her somewhere, years ago," said the novelist, by way of explaining his interest.
"Then it was before she got those scars," returned the Ranger.

"No one could ever forget her face as it is now." "At the same time," commented the artist, "the scars would prevent your identifying her if she received them after you had known her." "All the same," said Conrad Lagrange,--as though his mind was bothered by his inability to establish some incident in his memory,--"I'll place her yet.

Do you mind, Brian, telling us what you _do_ know of her ?" "Why, not at all," returned the officer.

"The story is anybody's property.
Its being so well known is probably the reason you didn't hear it when you were up here before.
"Sibyl's father and mother were here in the mountains when I came.

They lived up there at the old place where Myra and Sibyl are camping now, and I never expect to meet finer people--either in this world or the next.