"Not quite; and I may not always be sitting there, for I believe I have really got a little bit of your soul. Last night I seemed to feel it stirring within me, and I liked its personality."
"You did seem different last night," Julian said, looking at Valentine with a keen interest. "Can it be possible that those sittings of ours have really had any effect?"
"On me they have; not on you. You haven't caught my coldness, but I have gained something of your warmth. Doesn't that perhaps show that mine was, after all, the wrong nature?"
"I don't know," Julian said doubtfully; "you look the same."
"Do I? Exactly?"
Valentine spoke with a sort of whimsical defiance, as if almost daring Julian to answer, Yes. And Julian, too, seemed suddenly doubtful whether he had stated what was the fact. He looked closely at Valentine.
"Do you think your face has changed? Do you mean to say that?" he asked.
"I only fancied there might be a little more humanity in it, that was all."
"Once or twice I have thought I noticed something," Julian said, still doubtfully; "but I believe it's imagination. It doesn't stay."
"When it does, I suppose I shall be able thoroughly to appreciate all your temptations. Don't you begin to think now it's good to have them."