“Do you believe in that?” he said, pointing to the illustration.
Regina declined to understand him. “In what?” she asked.
“In love at first sight.”
It would be speaking with inexcusable rudeness to say plainly that she told him a lie. Let the milder form of expression be, that she modestly concealed the truth. “I don’t know anything about it,” she said.
“I do,” Amelius remarked smartly.
She persisted in looking at the illustration. Was there an infection of imbecility in that fatal work? She was too simple to understand him, even yet! “You do—what?” she inquired innocently.
“I know what love at first sight is,” Amelius burst out.
Regina turned over the leaves of the magazine. “Ah,” she said, “you have read the story.”
“I haven’t read the story,” Amelius answered. “I know what I felt myself—on being introduced to a young lady.”
She looked up at him with a sly smile. “A young lady in America?” she asked.