168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. But you couldn't. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. I wouldn't have him see me in this state for the world. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. As a dog eats grass.
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