"I imagine you
were an abominable infant. Tell me of some of the outrageous things
you used to do. I was called the worst child in three counties; but, I
doubt not, your exploits discounted mine, as the Americans say."
"Oh, mine are too bad to relate," she exclaimed, with a nervous laugh,
and coloring swiftly, as she had done the night before. "But you were
ill for a whole week, were you not? Was it anything serious?"
Dartmouth felt a sudden impulse to tell her of his strange experience.
He was not given to making confidences, but he felt _en rapport_ with
this girl as he had never felt with man or woman before. He had a
singular feeling, when talking with or listening to her, of losing his
sense of separateness. It was not that he felt de-individualized, but
that he had an accession of personality. It was pleasant because it
was novel, but at the same time it was uncomfortable because it was
a trifle unnatural. He smiled a little to himself. Was it a case of
affinity after all? But he had no time to analyze. She was waiting for
an answer, and in a moment he found himself yielding to his impulse
and giving her a graphic account of his peculiar visitation.
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