"I can understand the last part of it," I observed.

"You are really very nice," she returned, "and when Papa has got
you that place in the City, I am going to allow you to come up
here and dream too. And you'll tell me about the Sleeping Beauty
and I'll unbosom myself about the Beast, and we'll exchange heart-
aches and be, oh, so happy together."

"I am that now," I said.

"You're awfully easily pleased, Fyles," she said. "Most of the men
I know I have to rack my head to entertain; talk exploring, you
know, to explorers, and horses to Derby winners, and what it feels
like to be shot--to soldiers--but you entertain ME, and that is
so much pleasanter."

"I wish I dared ask you some questions," I said.

"Oh, but you mustn't!" she broke out, with a quick intuition of
what I meant.

"Why mustn't?" Tasked.

"Oh, because--because----" she returned. "I wouldn't like to fib
to you, and I wouldn't like to tell you the truth--and it would
make me feel hot and uncomfortable----"

"What would?" I asked.