"Do epigrams require explanations?"
"This one does, I fancy."
"Oh, no, it doesn't. You must guess that the explanation lies in the words I used. 'At this moment,' I said."
"Why this moment rather than others, Mr. Montrose?"
The young man drew back rather disappointed. "No. I see you don't understand, Miss Enistor, or you would not call me Mr. Montrose."
"You call me Miss Enistor!" replied Alice, wilfully dense.
For the sake of beating her with her own weapons, he answered in kind. "Naturally I do. I am a very polite person. But I daresay, in other lives, in other climes, and when we were clothed in other bodies, I called you Chloe, or Octavia, or Isabeau, or Edith."
"Greek, Roman, French, and Anglo-Saxon," commented Alice, amused; "you seem to have settled the countries we lived in. I suppose I called you Damon, or Marcus, or Jehan, or Harold—that is, supposing we were together in those days in those places."
"We have always been together," said Douglas decisively. "I am quite sure."
"Have you any proof?"