"They think," she explained, "that you're imagining all sorts of
terrible things." "Heavens!" he answered; "if they only knew what I
_do_ think about." At one time, when he was visiting this same
friend, he was obliged to return some calls, and his companion in the
midst of conversation left him to continue it. He had previously asked
his hostess, in assumed terror, what he should talk about, and she
advised "climate." Accordingly, he turned to the naval officer whom he
was calling upon, and asked him if he had ever been to the Sandwich
Islands. "The man started," he said, on returning, "as if he had been
struck. He had evidently been there and committed some terrible crime,
which my allusion recalled. I had made a frightful mess of it. B---- led
me away to the door." This woful account was, of course, an imaginary
and symbolical representation of the terrors which enforced conversation
caused him; the good officer's surprise at the abrupt introduction of a
new subject had supplied him with the ludicrous suggestion. Mr. Curtis
has given an account of his demeanor on another occasion:--
"I had driven up with some friends to an aesthetic tea at Mr. Emerson's.
It was in the winter, and a great wood-fire blazed upon the hospitable
hearth. There were various men and women of note assembled; and I, who
listened attentively to all the fine things that were said, was for some
time scarcely aware of a man who sat upon the edge of the circle, a
little withdrawn, his head slightly thrown forward upon his breast, and
his black eyes ['black' is an error] clearly burning under his black
brow.
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