Throughout the desultory conversation he had been
profoundly concerned with his own disturbing affairs, and now was
preoccupied with a dialogue taking place (in his mind) between himself
and Miss Lucy Morgan. As he beheld the vision, Lucy had just thrown
herself at his feet. "George, you must forgive me!" she cried. "Papa
was utterly wrong! I have told him so, and the truth is that I have
come to rather dislike him as you do, and as you always have, in your
heart of hearts. George, I understand you: thy people shall be my
people and thy gods my gods. George, won't you take me back?"
"Lucy, are you sure you understand me?" And in the darkness George's
bodily lips moved in unison with those which uttered the words in his
imaginary rendering of this scene. An eavesdropper, concealed behind
the column, could have heard the whispered word "sure," the emphasis
put upon it in the vision was so poignant. "You say you understand
me, but are you sure?"
Weeping, her head bowed almost to her waist, the ethereal Lucy made
reply: "Oh, so sure! I will never listen to father's opinions again.
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