He was wondering to himself what Marcelline really meant; whether she knew of the wonders concealed behind the tapestry, or was only teasing him a little in the kind but queer way she sometimes did.
"Marcelline," he said suddenly at last, "I don't understand you." "Do you understand yourself, my little Monsieur ?" said Marcelline.

"Do any of us understand ourselves?
all the different selves that each of us is ?" "No," said Hugh, "I daresay we don't.

It is very puzzling; it's all very puzzling." "In the country where I lived when I was a little girl," began Marcelline, but Jeanne interrupted her.
"Have you never been there since, Marcelline ?" she asked.
Marcelline smiled again her funny smile.
"Oh dear, yes," she said; "often, very often.

I should not have been near so happy as I am if I had not often visited that country." "Dear me," exclaimed Jeanne, "how very queer! I had no idea of that.

You haven't been there for a great many years any way, Marcelline.