THE SACRED FOUNT
this revolution on nothing less, as I now went on to explain to her. "Of course if you've got new evidence I shall be delighted to hear it; and of course I can't help wondering whether the possession of it and the desire to overwhelm me with it aren't, together, the one thing you've been nursing till now."
Oh, how intensely she didn't like such a tone! If she hadn't looked so handsome I would say she made a wry face over it, though I didn't even yet see where her dislike would make her come out. Before she came out, in fact, she waited as if it were a question of dashing her head at a wall. Then, at last, she charged. "It's nonsense. I've nothing to tell you. I feel there's nothing in it and I've given it up."
I almost gaped—by which I mean that I looked as if I did—for surprise. "You agree that it's not she———?" Then, as she again waited, "It's you who've come round?" I insisted.
"To your doubt of its being May? Yes—I've come round."
"Ah, pardon me," I returned; "what I expressed this morning was, if I remember rightly, not at all a 'doubt,' but a positive, intimate conviction that was inconsistent with any doubt. I was emphatic—purely and simply—that I didn't see it."
She looked, however, as if she caught me in a weakness here. "Then why did you say to me that if you should reconsider———"
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