Mrs. Nettlepoint had given me due attention. "Well, if there's no harm
from it what are you talking about and why am I immoral?"

I hesitated, laughing. "I retract--you're sane and clear. I'm sure she
thinks there won't be any harm," I added. "That's the great point."

"The great point?"

"To be settled, I mean."

"Mercy, we're not trying them!" cried my friend. "How can _we_ settle
it?"

"I mean of course in our minds. There will be nothing more interesting
these next ten days for our minds to exercise themselves upon."

"Then they'll get terribly tired of it," said Mrs. Nettlepoint.

"No, no--because the interest will increase and the plot will thicken. It
simply can't _not_," I insisted. She looked at me as if she thought me
more than Mephistophelean, and I went back to something she had lately
mentioned. "So she told you everything in her life was dreary?"

"Not everything, but most things. And she didn't tell me so much as I
guessed it. She'll tell me more the next time. She'll behave properly
now about coming in to see me; I told her she ought to."

"I'm glad of that," I said. "Keep her with you as much as possible."