“I don’t quite know what else to say,” she answered. “It is not exactly seeing things or noticing them. It is feeling the picture in them. This dance has a picture in it. Often I don’t feel so about things that are very beautiful.”
“Did you ever see Hamlet?” said Guy, apparently with an abrupt change of subject.
“Oh yes, more than once. Have you seen the new Hamlet?”
“I saw it yesterday. I wish you’d tell me the meaning—what you see inside that.”
“Oh,” said Florella, laughing. “That’s what many people have tried to see.”
“I have read it all through to-day,” said Guy, naïvely. “What puzzles me is how, as the ghost was real, Hamlet had any doubt about him.”
“Why, you see he thought that it might be an evil spirit taking his father’s shape.”
“But if he had really felt it, he must have known whether it was good or evil. Seeing a ghost isn’t like seeing a person outside you. Didn’t you know that the other day when you spoke of the only thing that could have helped—Guy Waynflete?”
She flushed a deep crimson. There was something overwhelming to her in the conversation, and she could hardly speak. “That came into my mind,” she said. “I never thought of it before.”
“But you believe it?”