It will give us, if we retrace the steps of it, everything, everything!"Mrs.Briss considered."I don't quite see, do I? why, at this hour of the night, we should begin to retrace steps.""Simply because it's the hour of the night you've happened, in your generosity and your discretion, to choose.I'm struck, I confess," I declared with a still sharper conviction, "with the wonderful charm of it for our purpose.""And, pray, what do you call with such solemnity," she inquired, "our purpose?"I had fairly recovered at last--so far from being solemn--an appropriate gaiety."I can only, with positiveness, answer for mine! That has remained all day the same--to get at the truth: not, that is, to relax my grasp of that tip of the tail of it which you so helped me this morning to fasten to.If you've ceased to CARE to help me," I pursued, "that's a difference indeed.But why," I candidly, pleadingly asked, "SHOULD you cease to care?"It was more and more of a comfort to feel her imprisoned in her inability really to explain her being there.To show herself as she was explained it only so far as she could express that; which was just the ******* she could least take."What on earth is between us, anyhow," I insisted, "but our confounded interest? That's only quickened, for me, don't you see?
by the charming way you've come round; and I don't see how it can logically be anything less than quickened for yourself.We're like the messengers and heralds in the tale of Cinderella, and I protest, I assure you, against any sacrifice of our denoument.We've still the glass shoe to fit."I took pleasure at the moment in my metaphor; but this was not the case, I soon enough perceived, with my companion."How can I tell, please," she demanded, "what you consider you're talking about?"I smiled; it was so quite the question Ford Obert, in the smoking-room, had begun by putting me.I hadn't to take time to remind myself how I had dealt with HIM."And you knew," I sighed, "so beautifully, you glowed over it so, this morning!" She continued to give me, in every way, her disconnection from this morning, so that I had only to proceed: "You've not availed yourself of this occasion to pretend to me that poor Mr.Long, as you call him, is, after all, the same limited person--""That he always was, and that you, yesterday, so suddenly discovered him to have ceased to be?"--for with this she had waked up.But she was still thinking how she could turn it."You see too much.""Oh, I know I do--ever so much too much.And much as I see, I express only half of it--so you may judge!" I laughed."But what will you have?
I see what I see, and this morning, for a good bit, you did me the honour to do the same.I returned, also, the compliment, didn't I? by seeing something of what YOU saw.We put it, the whole thing, together, and we shook the bottle hard.I'm to take from you, after this," I wound up, "that what it contains is a perfectly colourless fluid?"I paused for a reply, but it was not to come so happily as from Obert.
"You talk too much!" said Mrs.Briss.
I met it with amazement."Why, whom have I told?"I looked at her so hard with it that her colour began to rise, which made me promptly feel that she wouldn't press that point."I mean you're carried away--you're abused by a fine fancy: so that, with your art of putting things, one doesn't know where one is--nor, if you'll allow me to say so, do I quite think YOU always do.Of course I don't deny you're awfully clever.But you build up," she brought out with a regret so indulgent and a reluctance so marked that she for some seconds fairly held the blow--"you build up houses of cards."I had been impatient to learn what, and, frankly, I was disappointed.
This broke from me, after an instant, doubtless, with a bitterness not to be mistaken."Long ISN'T what he seems?""Seems to whom?" she asked sturdily.
"Well, call it--for simplicity--to ME.For you see "--and I spoke as to show WHAT it was to see--"it all stands or falls by that."The explanation presently appeared a little to have softened her.If it all stood or fell only by THAT, it stood or fell by something that, for her comfort, might be not so unsuccessfully disposed of.She exhaled, with the swell of her fine person, a comparative blandness--seemed to play with the idea of a smile.She had, in short, her own explanation."The trouble with you is that you over-estimate the penetration of others.How can it approach your own?""Well, yours had for a while, I should say, distinct moments of keeping up with it.Nothing is more possible," I went on, "than that I do talk too much; but I've done so--about the question in dispute between us--only to YOU.I haven't, as I conceived we were absolutely not to do, mentioned it to anyone else, nor given anyone a glimpse of our difference.If you've not understood yourself as pledged to the same reserve, and have consequently,"I went on, "appealed to the light of other wisdom, it shows at least that, in spite of my intellectual pace, you must more or less have followed me.
What am I NOT, in fine, to think of your intelligence," I asked, "if, deciding for a resort to headquarters, you've put the question to Long himself?""The question?" She was straight out to sea again.
"Of the identity of the lady."
She slowly, at this, headed about."To Long himself?"