"I don't think I always understand you now--you sometimes say odd things."
"Drink out of this same glass then; and then, you know, you will be able to guess my thoughts." He held it towards her; his whole face was glowing, his eyes avoided hers, as they looked at him with surprised enquiry. She took the glass, but held it in her hand, without drinking.
"I wish it could really help one to guess them. There is a certain young man of my acquaintance, who used to have no secrets from me, and of late he has been a mystery with seven seals; but I doubt if the truth be really in this wine. I rather think----"
She stopped short, for a sudden perception began to dawn on her mind, though she could hardly trust herself to admit it. He had raised his eyes now, and was looking at her with wrapt gaze.
"Helen," he said, "when a man feels choking it is too late to ask him what strangles him? All I know is, that I shall have to go away, and leave you--"
"Go away! why, what are you thinking of?"
"You may well ask," he said, in a tone of desperation, without venturing to look up. "I only know too well, I cannot live without you."
His words thrilled to her very marrow, she held the wineglass unconsciously, without seeing how she was spilling the wine.
"That is not what I meant," she said. "What makes you talk so strangely?"
She would have risen, but he seized her hand so eagerly, that she dropped the glass.