"This is a surprise," she said.
He held her hand and looked meaningly at her.
"My appearances _are_ sometimes surprising," he said. "But I usually
select the night for them; the effect is better then, you see."
She smiled into his eyes.
"I have no doubt but that you are dreadfully mysterious," she said.
"But please sit down."
She seated herself near the window; holding a book in her hand, she
fluttered the leaves to and fro.
"The composure," thought the investigator, as he sat down, "is
somewhat overdone."
"I wonder," said Miss Vale, looking at the book, "if you are an
admirer of Ibsen." And as he nodded, she proceeded with a slight
smile. "I know that he is scarcely the usual thing for a spring
morning. But there are times when I simply can't resist him."
"He's a strong draught at any time," said Ashton-Kirk. "But his tonic
quality is undoubted."
"His disciples claim that for him, at any rate," she answered. "But
sometimes I question its truth. Where is the tonic effect of
'Rosmersholm?' I think it full of terrors." She shuddered and added:
"The White Horses will haunt me for weeks."
"It's the atmosphere of crime," said he. "That quiet home on the
western fiords reeks with it."
She made a gesture of repulsion.
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