"Sure?"
"I think so."
"You can't merely think you are sure, old chap."
"Well, then--yes, I'll say I am sure."
"Right," rejoined Julian.
Again there was a silence, broken this time by Valentine.
"Why did you ask me?" he said.
"Oh! no special reason. I just wanted to know."
"Then you didn't?"
"Didn't what?"
"Feel anything?"
"No; nothing particular."
"Well, what do you mean by that?"
"What I say. I can't be sure it was anything."
"That's vague."
"So was my--I can't even call it exactly sensation. It was so very
slight. In fact, I'm as good as sure I felt nothing at all. It was a mere
fancy. Nothing more."
And then again they were silent. The fire gradually died down until the
room grew quite dark. Presently Valentine said:
"Hulloh! here is Rip up against my foot. He is cold without the fire,
poor little beggar."
"Shall we stop?" asked Julian.
"Yes; I vote we do--for to-night."
Valentine struck a match, felt for the knob of the electric light, and
turned it on. Julian and he looked at each other, blinking.
"Think there's anything in it?" asked Julian.
"I don't know," said Valentine. "I suppose not. Rip! Rip! He is cold. Did
you ever see a dog shiver like that?"
He picked the little creature up in his arms.
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