blight, and may have the healthy life choked out of it by a particular action of the foul land which rears or neighbours it, or by damage brought from foulness afar.
"Anna had got it into her head that you would want to ride after the hounds this morning," said Rex, whose secret associations with Anna’s words made this speech seem quite perilously near the most momentous of subjects.
"Did she?" said Gwendolen, laughingly. "What a little clairvoyante she is!"
"Shall you?" said Rex, who had not believed in her intending to do it if the elders objected, but confided in her having good reasons.
"I don’t know. I can’t tell what I shall do till I get there. Clairvoyantes are often wrong: they foresee what is likely. I am not fond of what is likely; it is always dull. I do what is unlikely."
"Ah, there you tell me a secret. When once I knew what people in general would be likely to do, I should know you would do the opposite. So you would have come round to a likelihood of your own sort. I shall be able to calculate on you. You couldn’t surprise me."
"Yes, I could. I should turn round and do what was likely for people in general," said Gwendolen, with a musical laugh.
