"Do you doubt it ?" Malcourt drew bridle, fished for his case, and lighted a cigarette; then he spurred forward again, alert, intent, head partly turned in that curious attitude of listening, though Virginia was riding now in pensive silence.
"Louis," she said at last, "what is it you hear when you seem to listen that way.

It's uncanny." "I'll tell _you_," he said.

"My father had a very pleasant, persuasive voice....

I was fond of him....

And sometimes I still argue with him--in the old humourous fashion--" "What ?"--with a shiver.
"In the old amusing way," continued Malcourt quietly.