The compliment was unstudied and pleasant, but she steeled
herself for her task. She knew instinctively that she had influence with
him, and she meant to use it to its utmost limit.
"I am glad, we are all glad, you are better," she said cordially; then
added, "how do your affairs come on? What are your plans?"
Valmond forgot that she was his inquisitor; he only saw her as his ally,
his friend. So he spoke to her, as he had done at the Manor, with a sort
of eloquence, of his great theme. He had changed greatly. The
rhetorical, the bizarre, had left his speech. There was no more
grandiloquence than might be expected of a soldier who saw things in the
bright flashes of the battle-field--sharp pinges of colour, the dyes well
soaked in. He had the gift of telling a story: some peculiar timbre in
the voice, some direct dramatic touch. She listened quietly, impressed
and curious. The impossibilities seemed for a moment to vanish in the
big dream, and she herself was a dreamer, a born adventurer among the
wonders of life.
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