"Adopt it? I rejoice in it! It became tremendously vivid to me last evening."
"Yes, as I listened to him, watched him. It simplified everything, explained everything."
"That's indeed the blessing of it. Is the scene very fine?"
"Almost as well as the other one writes!" I laughed.
This made my companion stop a moment, laying her hand on my arm. "You utter my very impression. I felt that he was reading me the work of another man."
"Such a totally different person," said Mrs. Adney. We talked of this difference as we went on, and of what a wealth it constituted, what a resource for life, such a duplication of character.
"It ought to make him live twice as long as other people," I observed.
"Well, both; for after all they're members of a firm, and one of them couldn't carry on the business without the other. Moreover mere survival would be dreadful for either."
Blanche Adney was silent a little; then she exclaimed: "I don't know--I wish he _would_ survive!"
"I know the heart of woman. You always prefer the other."
She halted again, looking round her. "Off here, away from my husband, I _can_ tell you. I'm in love with him!"
"Unhappy woman, he has no passions," I answered.
"That's exactly why I adore him. Doesn't a woman with my history know that the passions of others are insupportable? An actress, poor thing, can't care for any love that's not all on _her_ side; she can't afford to be repaid. My marriage proves that: marriage is ruinous. Do you know what was in my mind last night, all the while Mr. Vawdrey was reading me those beautiful speeches? An insane desire to see the author." And dramatically, as if to hide her shame, Blanche Adney passed on.
"We'll manage that," I returned. "I want another glimpse of him myself. But meanwhile please remember that I've been waiting more than forty-eight hours for the evidence that supports your sketch, intensely suggestive and plausible, of Lord Mellifont's private life."
"Oh, Lord Mellifont doesn't interest me."
"Yes, but that was before I fell in love. You blotted him out with your story."
"You'll make me sorry I told it. Come," I pleaded, "if you don't let me know how your idea came into your head I shall imagine you simply made it up."
"Let me recollect then, while we wander in this grassy valley."