day afternoon!—Two of you?— But you could n't have seen me, for I was lying down close to the edge, and just saw you disappear round the southern end."
"It must be melancholy to come up on this height all alone," said Archer.
"Oh, no," she returned. "That's the strangest part of it. I never feel alone anywhere on the island, partly because I used to make believe so much. And then I 've always had a queer feeling that there was some one moving along parallel to me, not far off, and not very near—a kind of invisible person that you might almost see out of the corner of your eye—especially in or near woods, and among white birches more than anywhere. My father says it's very interesting, and shows how paganism begins. I don't know. But it seems real. Sometimes—like drinking from the witch's spring, you know—I 've looked up quickly to catch a sight of it—the presence. But it never appears. It makes you feel quite safe—and yet somehow—cautious. See how I talk about my notions! It's your
