"The knowledge it brings you is bought too dear, Monsieur; this coming and going by stealth degrades your own dignity."
"My dignity!" he cried, laughing; "when did you ever see me trouble my head about my dignity? It is you, Miss Lucy, who are 'digne.' How often, in your high insular presence, have I taken a pleasure in trampling upon, what you are pleased to call, my dignity; tearing it, scattering it to the winds, in those mad transports you witness with such hauteur, and which I know you think very like the ravings of a third-rate London actor."
"Monsieur, I tell you every glance you cast from that lattice is a wrong done to the best part of your own nature. To study the human heart thus, is to banquet secretly and sacrilegiously on Eve's apples. I wish you were a Protestant."
Indifferent to the wish, he smoked on. After a space of smiling yet thoughtful silence, he said, rather suddenly--"I have seen other things."
"What other things?"
Taking the weed from his lips, he threw the remnant amongst the shrubs, where, for a moment, it lay glowing in the gloom.
"Look, at it," said he: "is not that spark like an eye watching you and me?"
He took a turn down the walk; presently returning, he went on:--"I have seen, Miss Lucy, things to me unaccountable, that have made me watch all night for a solution, and I have not yet found it."
The tone was peculiar; my veins thrilled; he saw me shiver.
"Are you afraid? Whether is it of my words or that red jealous eye just winking itself out?"
"I am cold; the night grows dark and late, and the air is changed; it is time to go in."
"It is little past eight, but you shall go in soon. Answer me only this question."
Yet he paused ere he put it. The garden was truly growing dark; dusk had come on with clouds, and drops of rain began to patter through the trees. I hoped he would feel this, but, for the moment, he seemed too much absorbed to be sensible of the change.
"Mademoiselle, do you Protestants believe in the supernatural?"
"There is a difference of theory and belief on this point amongst Protestants as amongst other sects," I answered. "Why, Monsieur, do you ask such a question?"
"Why do you shrink and speak so faintly? Are you superstitious?"
"I am constitutionally nervous. I dislike the discussion of such subjects. I dislike it the more because--"
"You believe?"
"No: but it has happened to me to experience impressions--"