"And I, monsieur? What am I?"
"You are the miracle! You are the elusive creature deserting the green groves—stepping voluntarily into the mortal world."
"Yet if you know of me at all, you must know that I have left the mortal world and am seeking the secret groves."
"I have been told that."
"And you disbelieve?"
"I am afraid, princess, I do." He turned and looked at her—at the slim body wrapped in its long, smooth cloak of velvet—at the shadowed, questioning eyes. "I know I am greatly daring, but there are moments when we are outside ourselves—when we know and speak things of which we can give no logical account. You have put life behind you; yet what is life but a will-o'-the-wisp? Who can say where the light may not break forth again?"
"But have we not power over our senses, monsieur? Can we not shut our eyes, even if the light does break forth?"
"No, princess, we cannot! Because nature will inevitably say, 'I have given you eyes with which to see. Open those eyes'!"
"Ah, there we differ, monsieur!"
Blake laughed. "There, princess, you are the boy! He, too, thinks he can cheat nature; but I preach my gospel to him, I tell him Nature will have her own. If we will not bend to her, she will take and break us. Ah, but listen to that!"