"And pray, darling, what is that?"
"You're completely changed."
"By that absurdity?" he laughed.
"Not so much by that one as by other absurdities that have followed it."
"And what may they have been?"
We had faced each other fairly, with eyes that didn't flinch; but his had a dim, strange light, and my certitude triumphed in his perceptible paleness. "Do you really pretend," I asked, "not to know what they are?"
"My dear child," he replied, "you describe them too sketchily!"
I considered a moment. "One may well be embarrassed to finish the picture! But from that point of view—and from the beginning—what was ever more embarrassing than your idiosyncrasy?"
He was extremely vague. "My idiosyncrasy?"
"Your notorious, your peculiar power."
He gave a great shrug of impatience, a groan of overdone disdain. "Oh, my peculiar power!"
"Your accessibility to forms of life," I coldly went on, "your command of impressions, appearances, contacts closed—for our gain or our loss
