Part 9 (2/2)
”Levillier--yes. But he would--”
”Be reasonable about it, as he is about everything. Dear, sensible, odd, saintly, emotional, strong-headed, soft-hearted little doctor. He is unique.”
They talked on for some time, arriving at no conclusion, until it seemed they had talked the whole matter thoroughly out. Yet Valentine, who was curiously instinctive, had, all the time, a secret knowledge that Julian was keeping something from him, was not being perfectly frank. The conviction pained him. At last Julian got up to go. He stood putting on his overcoat.
”Good-night,” he said.
”Good-night, Julian.”
”Now--is this to be our last sitting?”
Valentine hesitated.
”What do you wish?” he asked at length.
”What do you?”
”Well, I--yes, I think I would rather it was the last.”
Julian caught his hand impulsively.
”So would I. Good-night.”
”Good-night.”
Julian went out into the hall, got as far as the front door, opened it, then suddenly called out:
”Valentine!”
”Yes.”
”Come here for a moment.”
Valentine went, and found him standing with his hand on the door, looking flushed and rather excited.
”There is one thing I haven't told you,” he began.
”I knew that.”
”I guessed you did. The most horrible sensation I have had. During our sitting to-night--don't be vexed--an extraordinary apprehension of--well, of you, came over me. There! Now I have told you.”
Valentine was greatly astonished.
”Of me?” he said.
”Yes. There was a moment when the idea that I was alone with you made my blood run cold.”
”Good heavens!”
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