As Laleham took a chair by Mariana’s side, her recognition of his presence would have been imperceptible to anyone who did not understand her language of silence. Her eyes remained fixed on the stars, and he sat down near her without attempting even to join her reverie. He was well content to look at her and know that she was near. Presently, without turning her head, with her eyes still among the stars, she said in her curious deep sudden voice:
“You have not found your butterfly?”
“No.”
“Do you still hope to find it?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Twice.”
“Twice!” she exclaimed, at length turning and looking at him. “Twice! and you lost it both times....”