Julian stood still.
"Doctor, I can understand your attitude," he said. "But what an amazing being you are, Val. You are as calm and collected as if you had sat and held converse with spirits all through your life. And yet something has governed you, has temporarily deprived you of life. For you were to all intents and purposes dead while you were in that trance."
"Death is simply nothing, and nothingness does not excite or terrify one.
I never felt better than I do at this moment."
"That's well," said Levillier, cheerfully.
Julian regarded Valentine's pure, beautiful face with astonishment.
"And you never looked better."
"I shall sleep exquisitely to-night, or rather this morning," Valentine said.
As he spoke he drew away the heavy green curtain that hung across the window. A very pale shaft of light stole in and lit up his white face.
It was the dawn, and, standing there, he looked like the spirit of the dawn, painted against the dying night in such pale colours, white, blue, and shadowy gold, a wonder of death and of life.
In the silence Dr. Levillier and Julian gazed at him, and he seemed a mystery to them both, a strange enigma of purity and of unearthliness.