Thea leaned forward and made out the title on the back,
"A Distinguished Provincial in Paris."

"It doesn't sound very interesting."

"Perhaps not, but it is." The doctor scrutinized her
broad face, low enough to be in the direct light from under
the green lamp shade. "Yes," he went on with some sat-
isfaction, "I think you'll like them some day. You're
always curious about people, and I expect this man knew
more about people than anybody that ever lived."

"City people or country people?"

"Both. People are pretty much the same everywhere."

"Oh, no, they're not. The people who go through in the
dining-car aren't like us."

"What makes you think they aren't, my girl? Their
clothes?"

Thea shook her head. "No, it's something else. I don't
know." Her eyes shifted under the doctor's searching gaze
and she glanced up at the row of books. "How soon will
I be old enough to read them?"

"Soon enough, soon enough, little girl." The doctor
patted her hand and looked at her index finger. "The