"Ye-es--I don't know. But I feel rather sorry for your brother.
He looked so lonely--and sick."

"He's gettin' better every day," Jim said. "Dr. Gurney says so.
There's nothing much the matter with him, really--it's nine-tenths
imaginary. 'Nerves'! People that are willing to be busy don't have
nervous diseases, because they don't have time to imagine 'em."

"You mean his trouble is really mental?"

"Oh, he's not a lunatic," said Jim. "He's just queer. Sometimes
he'll say something right bright, but half the time what he says is
'way off the subject, or else there isn't any sense to it at all.
For instance, the other day I heard him talkin' to one of the darkies
in the hall. The darky asked him what time he wanted the car for his
drive, and anybody else in the world would have just said what time
they DID want it, and that would have been all there was to it; but
here's what Bibbs says, and I heard him with my own ears. 'What time
do I want the car?' he says. 'Well, now, that depends--that depends,'
he says. He talks slow like that, you know. 'I'll tell you what time
I want the car, George,' he says, 'if you'll tell ME what you think
of this statue!' That's exactly his words! Asked the darky what he
thought of that Arab Edith and mother bought for the hall!"

Mary pondered upon this. "He might have been in fun, perhaps," she
suggested.

"Askin' a darky what he thought of a piece of statuary--of a work of
art! Where on earth would be the fun of that? No, you're just
kind-hearted--and that's the way you OUGHT to be, of course--"