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62 myself; ridiculous to me, even at at so early a stage of our intimacy, as was the notion. But I saw that his look was not one of surprised irritation. It was not one of dissent. He continued looking at me ah, his serious eyes! whatever else he was seeing in his perturbed mind.

"Well", I continued, "isn't that probable? Have I made you angry by hinting at such a stupidity such an aesthetic tragedy?"

"No, no," he returned hastily,—"of course not!" And then with a laugh as curious as that look of his, for it was not his real, his cheerful and heart-glad laugh, but one that rang false even to being ill-humored, he added "By God, you have spoken the truth! Yes, to the dot on the i!"

I did not pursue the subject. I saw that it was one, whatever else was part of it, that was better left for Imre himself to take up at some other time; or not at all. Apparently, I had stumbled on one little romance; possibly on a grande passion! In either case it was a matter not dead, if moribund it might be.