this dreamy mediaeval town, losing more and more of his recognisable
personality. Soon, he felt, the Curtain within would roll up with an
awful rush, and he would find himself suddenly admitted into the secret
purposes of the hidden life that lay behind it all. Only, by that time,
he would have become transformed into an entirely different being.

And, meanwhile, he noticed various little signs of the intention to
make his stay attractive to him: flowers in his bedroom, a more
comfortable arm-chair in the corner, and even special little extra
dishes on his private table in the dining-room. Conversations, too, with
"Mademoiselle Ilsé" became more and more frequent and pleasant, and
although they seldom travelled beyond the weather, or the details of the
town, the girl, he noticed, was never in a hurry to bring them to an
end, and often contrived to interject little odd sentences that he never
properly understood, yet felt to be significant.

And it was these stray remarks, full of a meaning that evaded him, that
pointed to some hidden purpose of her own and made him feel uneasy. They
all had to do, he felt sure, with reasons for his staying on in the town
indefinitely.

"And has M'sieur not even yet come to a decision?" she said softly in
his ear, sitting beside him in the sunny yard before _déjeuner_, the
acquaintance having progressed with significant rapidity. "Because, if
it's so difficult, we must all try together to help him!"

The question startled him, following upon his own thoughts. It was
spoken with a pretty laugh, and a stray bit of hair across one eye, as
she turned and peered at him half roguishly. Possibly he did not quite
understand the French of it, for her near presence always confused his