She gazed at him questioningly, and made no answer.
“Of course you have never seen this sort of thing before, English people in evening dress, dancing to a band?”
“I have known phantoms—yea, I have seen such as these,” pointing, “in a—dream—thousands of years ago.”
Her companion made no reply, the Persian often uttered dark sayings that were totally beyond his comprehension. Possibly she believed in the transmigration of souls, and was alluding to a former existence.
“Mine are but spirits, whereas to you these people are real flesh and blood,” she resumed. “You were one of them but three months ago. Think well ere you break with your past, and kill and bury youth. Lo, you grow old already! Let me plead for youth, and love. Heaven has opened to me to-day. She,” lowering her voice to a whisper, “is among those—I have seen her—she is there below.”
“I know,” he answered, also in a low voice.
“Then why do you not seek her—so young, so fair, so good? Oh! have you forgotten her sweet smile, her charming eyes? Love, real love, comes but once! Go now and find her.”
Mark shook his head with emphatic negation.
“What heart of stone!” she cried passionately. “Truly I will go myself and fetch her here. I——But no—I dare not,” and she covered her face with her hands.
“Do not add your voice to my own mad inclinations. It is all over between us. To meet her and to part again would give her needless pain.”