Alpha Book

"Not from choice," he said, under his breath. Her quick ear heard, and
she turned, semi-serious, questioning him with raised eyebrows.
"Nothing; I was just muttering. I've a villainous habit of muttering
mushy nothings--"
"You _did_ say something!"
"No; only ghoulish gabble; the mere murky mouthings of a meagre mind."
"You _did_. It's rude not to repeat it when I ask you."
"I didn't mean to be rude."
"Then repeat what you said to yourself."
"Do you wish me to?" he asked, raising his eyes so gravely that the
smile faded from lip and voice when she answered: "I beg your pardon,
Captain Selwyn. I did not know you were serious."
"Oh, I'm not," he returned lightly, "I'm never serious. No man who
soliloquises can be taken seriously. Don't you know, Miss Erroll, that
the crowning absurdity of all tragedy is the soliloquy?"
Her smile became delightfully uncertain; she did not quite understand
him--though her instinct warned her that, for a second, something had
menaced their understanding.


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