the latest movements of the day. But I don't. My life is as
quiet as yours, and more solitary; solitary as death.'

'The death which comes from a plethora of life? But seriously, I
can quite see that you are not the least what I thought you would
be before I saw you. You are not critical, or experienced, or--
much to mind. That's why I don't mind singing airs to you that I
only half know.' Finding that by this confession she had vexed him
in a way she did not intend, she added naively, 'I mean, Mr.
Smith, that you are better, not worse, for being only young and
not very experienced. You don't think my life here so very tame
and dull, I know.'

'I do not, indeed,' he said with fervour. 'It must be
delightfully poetical, and sparkling, and fresh, and----'

'There you go, Mr. Smith! Well, men of another kind, when I get
them to be honest enough to own the truth, think just the reverse:
that my life must be a dreadful bore in its normal state, though
pleasant for the exceptional few days they pass here.'

'I could live here always!' he said, and with such a tone and look
of unconscious revelation that Elfride was startled to find that
her harmonies had fired a small Troy, in the shape of Stephen's
heart. She said quickly:

'But you can't live here always.'

'Oh no.' And he drew himself in with the sensitiveness of a snail.