She grew deadly pale. "Oh, speak to me as you spoke to the young men! Speak to me as if I were a human being!" There was something beseeching in her voice, and something shy and awkward. She went on hurriedly, like one who has much to say and condenses a great deal into a few words, "Give me your hand, and say quite simply, 'It is good of you to want to keep me here.'"
"Queer little thing!" said the stranger as if to himself, with a cool smile. "What?" His eyes took on a bolder expression.
The girl questioned him in deep excitement: "Have you never met a kind, simple woman, or a girl ...?"
He broke in: "Kind ones there are a-plenty, fair lady."
"No," she said, more calmly now, "I mean a woman who said to you, 'Speak to me as to a human being--tell me what you know and what you think. I need something for my soul to live on!'"
"No," he said, "I have never met one like that. When I have talked to one as to a human being, she always began to yawn."
"Really?" said the girl sadly. "Or is it that it happened two or three times as you say, and then you frightened all the rest?"
"It may be. But it's not a question of much importance."
"Why not!" she asked excitedly.
"Because the most that could come out of it would be a silly love-story, Mamsell--the same old silly story."