He could---" Prince Ivan looked at me fixedly.
"Will you swear to me that you actually do not know ?" "Know what ?" I asked, perplexed.
He laughed bitterly, sarcastically.
"Did you ever hear that line of poetry which speaks of 'A woman wailing for her demon-lover'?
That is what Zara does.

Of one thing I am certain--she does not wail or wait long; he comes quickly." "What do you mean ?" I exclaimed, utterly mystified.

"Who comes quickly?
I am sure you do not know what you are talking about." "I DO know," he replied firmly; "and I am going to prove my knowledge.
Remember what I have asked you." And without another word or look, he threw open the velvet curtains of the portiere, and disappeared behind them.
Left to myself, I felt very nervous and excited.

All sorts of odd fancies came into my head, and would not go away, but danced about like Will-o'-the-wisps on a morass.

What did Prince Ivan mean?
Was he mad?
or had he drunk too much wine?
What strange illusion had he in his mind about Zara and a demon?
Suddenly a thought flashed upon me that made me tremble from head to foot.