something in them that he had never seen in any others. "It was a jumble
of crudities and inanities," he went on; "they must have seemed to her
great rubbish; but I felt the wiser and the stronger, somehow, for having
fired off all my guns--they could hurt nobody now if they hit--and I
imagine I might have gone far without finding another woman in whom such
an exhibition would have provoked so little of mere cold amusement."

"Madame Blumenthal, on the contrary," I surmised, "entered into your
situation with warmth."

"Exactly so--the greatest! She has felt and suffered, and now she
understands!"

"She told you, I imagine, that she understood you as if she had made you,
and she offered to be your guide, philosopher, and friend."

"She spoke to me," Pickering answered, after a pause, "as I had never
been spoken to before, and she offered me, formally, all the offices of a
woman's friendship."

"Which you as formally accepted?"

"To you the scene sounds absurd, I suppose, but allow me to say I don't
care!" Pickering spoke with an air of genial defiance which was the most
inoffensive thing in the world. "I was very much moved; I was, in fact,
very much excited. I tried to say something, but I couldn't; I had had
plenty to say before, but now I stammered and bungled, and at last I
bolted out of the room."

"Meanwhile she had dropped her tragedy into your pocket!"