"But what does it mean?" she asked, a pucker on her forehead.

"What does it matter?" said I. "Let's try the other."

"The other is longer."

"And better. Horas non numero nisi serenas."

"And what's that?"

I translated literally. Dolly clapped her hands, and her face
gleamed with smiles.

"I like that one," she cried.

"Stop!" said I imperatively. "You'll set it moving!"

"It's very sensible," said she.

"More freely rendered, it means, I live only when you--"

"By Jove!" remarked Archie, coming up behind us, pipe in mouth,
"there was a lot of rain last night. I've just measured it in
the gauge."

"Some people measure everything," said I, with a displeased air.
"It is a detestable habit."

"Archie, what does Pereunt et imputantur mean?"