Each time, from the secret places of the American heart, came forth the faith they could not see or that they could not even imagine. A figure that had seemed to him by day demure and innocent came towards him by night through the winding darkness of sleep, her face transfigured by a lecherous cunning, her eyes bright with brutish joy. "I'll tell you if you'll tell ME--" I heard myself say, then heard the tremor in which it broke. "And yet what?" "Well, are you so sure of the little gentleman?" "I'm not sure of anything but YOU.