across the room, and as she drew nearer the light
attracted the boy's attention and he turned his
head on his pillow and stared at her, his gray eyes
opening so wide that they seemed immense.

"Who are you?" he said at last in a half-frightened
whisper. "Are you a ghost?"

"No, I am not," Mary answered, her own whisper
sounding half frightened. "Are you one?"

He stared and stared and stared. Mary could
not help noticing what strange eyes he had. They
were agate gray and they looked too big for his
face because they had black lashes all round them.

"No," he replied after waiting a moment or so.
"I am Colin."

"Who is Colin?" she faltered.

"I am Colin Craven. Who are you?"

"I am Mary Lennox. Mr. Craven is my
uncle."

"He is my father," said the boy.

"Your father!" gasped Mary. "No one ever
told me he had a boy! Why didn't they?"

"Come here," he said, still keeping his strange
eyes fixed on her with an anxious expression.

She came close to the bed and he put out his
hand and touched her.

"You are real, aren't you?" he said. "I have
such real dreams very often. You might be one
of them."

[[157]]

p156b _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p157w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p158

v?