Angelica—With solemnity even this you must give, if you hear my story. I feel that you can not understand my story unless you give both!
Jean—Both, all, anything; they are yours, Angelica! Tell me about these visions upon the flowing water.
Angelica—Shadows seemed to fall there, of all shapes and forms.
Jean—Is that all? And was this puzzling to you? I can explain it all. Now, these shadows were, of course, the reflection from the cresset-light, that fell upon the water and then flew back again to your dear little eyes; that was all. Do you see, dear?
Angelica—But that was not all. There was more of it!
Jean—What, then?
Angelica—Once when I was standing and watching, there came a sudden change; the cresset-light went out! I looked and it was as black on the wall as the quicksand pond in the Court of Miracles. Then I looked down to the water again. The light from the flue came down a little less dimly than it did when the cresset was burning, and in a minute, dearest Jean, the self-same shadows began to flicker and fall and pass like the faint images of many graceful beings moving very swiftly to and fro above. I turned as cold as any stone when I saw this! Aha, that vision you cannot explain!
Jean—But, dear, I can. These were still reflections, the cresset reflections that had been, as it were, left over. They were tossed down to the moving water, from the water they were tossed up into the flue, and when the light in the cresset went out, these that were stored in the flue had still to fall.
Angelica—But this went on and on; this kept going on!
Jean—Then there were a great many left over to fall, a sort of accumulation of them.