“I wish I didn’t,” she answered.
“He’s an infernal charlatan,” Rochester declared. “I’m convinced of it, and I mean to expose him.”
She shook her head.
“You can call him what you like,” she said, “but there is Naudheim behind him. There is no one in Europe who would dare to call Naudheim a charlatan.”
“He is a wonderful man, but he is mad,” Rochester said.
“No, he is not mad,” she said. “It is we who are mad, to listen a little, to think a little, to play a little with the thoughts he gives us.”
“I know of Naudheim only by reputation,” Rochester said. “And so far as regards Saton, nothing will convince me that he is not an impostor.”
She sighed.
“There may be something of the charlatan in his methods,” she said, “but there is something else. Henry, why can’t we be content with the things that we know and see and feel?”
He smiled bitterly.