after all, what on earth sheer silence means--even at
Widderstone. But one can just realize a water-nymph. They chatter;
but, thank Heaven, it's not articulate.' He handed Lawford a cup
with a certain niceness and self-consciousness, lifting his
eyebrows slightly as he turned.

Lawford found himself listening out of a peculiar stillness of
mind to the voice of this suave and rather inscrutable
acquaintance. 'The curious thing is, do you know,' he began
rather nervously, 'that though I must have passed your gate at
least twice in the last few months, I have never noticed it
before, never even caught the sound of the water.'

'No, that's the best of it; nobody ever does. We are just buried
alive. We have lived here for years, and scarcely know a soul--
not even our own, perhaps. Why on earth should one? Acquaintances,
after all, are little else than a bad habit.'

'But then, what about me?' said Lawford.

'But that's just it,' said Herbert. 'I said ACQUAINTANCES; that's
just exactly what I'm going to prove--what very old friends
we are. You've no idea! It really is rather queer.' He took up
his cup and sauntered over to the window.

Lawford eyed him vacantly for a moment, and, following rather his
own curious thoughts than seeking any light on this somewhat
vague explanation, again broke the silence. 'It's odd, I suppose,
but this house affects me much in the same way as Widderstone
does. I'm not particularly fanciful--at least, I used not to be.