And what took you to Remenham House?’ ‘I shall come to that presently,’ said Gerald cautiously. "For the sake of the girl. This man has an evil reputation. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. He begged their attention for the next turn. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. I cannot answer that question.
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