"How perfectly weird the 'Vision of Sin' is!" Imogene continued. "Don't you like weird things?"
"Weird things?" Colville reflected. "Yes; but I don't see very much in them any more. The fact is, they don't seem to come to anything in particular."
"Oh, I think they do! I've had dreams that I've lived on for days. Do you ever have prophetic dreams?"
"Yes; but they never come true. When they do, I know that I didn't have them."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that we are all so fond of the marvellous that we can't trust ourselves about any experience that seems supernatural. If a ghost appeared to me I should want him to prove it by at least two other reliable, disinterested witnesses before I believed my own account of the matter."
"Oh!" cried the girl, half puzzled, half amused. "Then of course you don't believe in ghosts?"
"Yes; I expect to be one myself some day. But I'm in no hurry to mingle with them."
Imogene smiled vaguely, as if the talk pleased her, even when it mocked the fancies and whims which, after so many generations that have indulged them, she was finding so fresh and new in her turn.
"Don't you like to walk by the side of a river?" she asked, increasing her eager pace a little. "I feel as if it were bearing me along."