He noticed
that as she went by she turned as well as himself, and that there was a
sort of recognition in her movement. Then he felt sure that he had seen
her elsewhere, and before she had added to the distance that separated
them he stopped short, looking after her. She noticed his halt, paused
equally, and for a moment they stood there face to face, at a certain
interval, in the darkness.
"I beg your pardon--is it Doctor Prance?" he found himself demanding.
For a minute there was no answer; then came the voice of the little
lady:
"Yes, sir; I am Doctor Prance. Any one sick at the hotel?"
"I hope not; I don't know," Ransom said, laughing.
Then he took a few steps, mentioned his name, recalled his having met
her at Miss Birdseye's, ever so long before (nearly two years), and
expressed the hope that she had not forgotten that.
She thought it over a little--she was evidently addicted neither to
empty phrases nor to unconsidered assertions. "I presume you mean that
night Miss Tarrant launched out so."
"That very night. We had a very interesting conversation."
"Well, I remember I lost a good deal," said Doctor Prance.
"Well, I don't know; I have an idea you made it up in other ways,"
Ransom returned, laughing still.
He saw her bright little eyes engage with his own. Staying, apparently,
in the village, she had come out, bare-headed, for an evening walk, and
if it had been possible to imagine Doctor Prance bored and in want of
recreation, the way she lingered there as if she were quite willing to
have another talk might have suggested to Basil Ransom this condition.
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