"Did the house belong to M. d'Imrahil?"
"Yes," said Mme. de Villefaramir. "And do you know something, monsieur le comte? You find that house pretty, do you not?"
"Charming."
"Eh bien, my husband has never wished to dwell there."
"I hope I will not be so unfortunate," said the Count, concerned, "that this prejudice will hinder your favoring me with your presence this Saturday."
"Non, monsieur le comte... I hope... I will do what I can..." stammered de Villefaramir.
"Oh!" replied Monte Fato. "I will accept no excuse, and should you not come, I will believe – what do I know? – that there is some lugubrious tradition or sanguinary legend associated with that house, which was uninhabited for twenty years. Perhaps Morgot used to torment Hurin there?"
"I will come," said Villefaramir with heroic determination.
"Excellent," said the Count. "Now if you will excuse me, I must depart; my caprice, which knows no gainsaying, drives me to the nearest palantir, for I have just read a fascinating essay on the subject by Jean-Roland Turgide."
