an alacrity plainly arising
less from interest in the subject than from a wish to divert his
thoughts from herself.
'Yes; I was making an entry. And with your permission I will complete
it.' Knight then stood still and wrote. Elfride remained beside him a
moment, and afterwards walked on.
'I should like to see all the secrets that are in that book,' she gaily
flung back to him over her shoulder.
'I don't think you would find much to interest you.'
'I know I should.'
'Then of course I have no more to say.'
'But I would ask this question first. Is it a book of mere facts
concerning journeys and expenditure, and so on, or a book of thoughts?'
'Well, to tell the truth, it is not exactly either. It consists for
the most part of jottings for articles and essays, disjointed and
disconnected, of no possible interest to anybody but myself.'
'It contains, I suppose, your developed thoughts in embryo?'
'Yes.'
'If they are interesting when enlarged to the size of an article, what
must they be in their concentrated form? Pure rectified spirit, above
proof; before it is lowered to be fit for human consumption: "words that
burn" indeed.'
'Rather like a balloon before it is inflated: flabby, shapeless, dead.
You could hardly read them.'
'May I try?' she said coaxingly. 'I wrote my poor romance in that way--I
mean in bits, out of doors--and I should like to see whether your way of
entering things is the same as mine.'
'Really, that's rather an awkward request. I suppose I can hardly refuse
now you have asked so directly; but----'
'You think me ill-mannered in asking. But does not this justify me--your
writing in my presence, Mr. Knight? If I had lighted upon your book by
chance, it would have been different; but you stand before me, and say,
"Excuse me," without caring whether I do or not, and write on, and then
tell me they are not private facts but public ideas.'
'Very well, Miss Swancourt. If you really must see, the consequences
be upon your own head. Remember, my advice to you is to leave my book
alone.'
'But with that caution I have your permission?'
'Yes.'
She hesitated a moment, looked at his hand containing the book, then
laughed, and saying, 'I must see it,' withdrew it from his fingers.
Knight rambled on towards the house, leaving her standing in the path
turning over the leaves. By the time he had reached the wicket-gate he
saw that she had moved, and waited till she came up.
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