"Spirits of all orders can speak to man in every language, so long as they are face to face," she answered, with a faint surprise at my lack of knowledge. "'When they turn to man, they come into use of his language and no longer remember their own, but as soon as they turn from man they resume their own language, and forget his.'
"But they themselves are unaware of this fact, for they utter thought to thought by direct intelligence. So if angel or demon turns his back to you, Roger, you may not make him hear you though you call with great force."
"How do you know that, Desire?"
"But by simple reading! Do not Ennemoser and many writers record it?"
"Have you spoken to such beings, Desire?"
The question was rash, but it escaped me before I could check the impulse. To my relief, she answered without resentment:
"No."
"No? The Thing—the enemy that comes to me has never spoken to you?"
"No."
I was silent in amazement and incredulity. The dark creature claimed her, she declared herself helpless to escape from that dominion into normal life, and yet It never had spoken to her? It spoke to me, a stranger most ignorant, and not to the seeress who was familiar with Its existence and the lore which linked humanity to Its fearful kind?