“But what can be the matter with this poor head of mine, to make me have these visions?”
“Pshaw! It’s the height of the cold season; everybody sees them.”
“Do you ever?”
“I? no, never. I eat a great deal; but you—you eat nothing at all. By the way, you ought to have something now; some tea, at least.”
“Not yet. What do you think of this Italian’s story?”
“That Tebaldo? You haven’t told me the first word of it.”
“Very true. Well, I will not, either.”
“Why?”
“It’s too absurd. Still—do you believe Lawyer Goefle is my enemy? He may be.”
“I can’t see why.”