"What, then--for instance?" he asked.

The girl shook back her hair and arose.

"Freedom, money, leisure, books, travel, people!"

"I thought you were going to leave out people altogether," said
Spence, whimsically. "But otherwise your wants are fairly
comprehensive. You have neglected only two important things--health
and love."

"I have health--and I don't want love."

"Not yet--of course--" began the professor, still fatherly
indulgent. But she turned on him with a white face.

"Never!" she said. "That one thing I envy no one. You are wondering
why I have never considered marriage as a possible way out? Well, it
isn't a possible way--for me. Marriage is a hideous thing--hideous!"

She wasn't young now, that was certain. It was no child who stood
there with a face of sick distaste. The professor's mood of
indulgent maturity melted into dismay before the half-seen horror in
her eyes.

But the moment of revelation passed as quickly as it had come. The
girl's face settled again into its grave placidity.

"I'll get the tea," she said. "The kettle will be boiling dry."