'
'I'll stay here,' I said, a little angrily--for I _was_ angry as well as
nervous; and through my fear was that indignation at her extravagances
which mimicked lunacy so unpleasantly, and were, I knew, designed to
frighten me.
Over the stepping-stones, pulling up her dress, she skipped with her long,
lank legs, like a witch joining a Walpurgis. Over the stile she strode, and
I saw her head wagging, and heard her sing some of her ill-omened rhymes,
as she capered solemnly, with many a grin and courtesy, among the graves
and headstones, towards the ruin.
CHAPTER VIII
_THE SMOKER_
Three years later I learned--in a way she probably little expected, and
then did not much care about--what really occurred there. I learned even
phrases and looks--for the story was related by one who had heard it
told--and therefore I venture to narrate what at the moment I neither saw
nor suspected. While I sat, flushed and nervous, upon a flat stone by the
bank of the little stream, Madame looked over her shoulder, and perceiving
that I was out of sight, she abated her pace, and turned sharply towards
the ruin which lay at her left.
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