"I've seen so little of women, that I can taste you more correctly than if I had seen a great many.

Understand ?" Sophie did not answer, being somewhat thrown out by this new way of looking at the matter.

There seemed to be some reason in it, too.
"If I'd associated with other people, I shouldn't have been sensitive enough to recognize you when we met; no one except me can know you or feel you," continued he, following out his idea.
Sophie began to feel a vague misgiving.

What did this mean?
What was going to be the end of it?
Ought she to allow it to go on?
And yet--most likely it meant nothing; it was only one of his queer fancies that he was elaborating.

There did not seem to be any thing suspicious in his manner.
"It wasn't easy even for me," he resumed, throwing another glance at her; she sat with her eyes cast down, so that he could observe her with impunity.