He paused and thought.

If anything happened, she should know.
But what should happen?
He shook his head.

He moved on to the church.
The doors were unlocked.

He went in, drew out a little pocket-lantern, lit it, and walked up the aisle.
"A sentimental business this: I don't know why I do it," he thought.
He stopped at the tomb of Sir Gaston Belward, put his hand on it, and stood looking at it.
"I wonder if there is anything in it ?" he said aloud: "if he does influence me?
if we've got anything to do with each other?
What he did I seem to know somehow, more or less.

A little dwarf up in my brain drops the nuts down now and then.