"Yes, that's all."

The philosopher spread out his hands.

"My dear young lady," he said, "it becomes a question of degree.
How probable or improbable is it?"

"I don't know; not very probable--unless--"

"Well?"

"Unless he did happen to notice, you know."

"Ah, yes; we supposed that, if he thought of it, he would probably
take the desired step--at least, that he might be led to do so.
Could she not--er--indicate her preference?"

"She might try--no, she couldn't do much. You see, he--he doesn't
think about such things."

"I understand precisely. And it seems to me, Miss May, that in that
very fact we find our solution."

"Do we?" she asked.

"I think so. He has evidently no natural inclination toward
her--perhaps not toward marriage at all. Any feeling aroused in him
would be necessarily shallow and, in a measure, artificial, and
in all likelihood purely temporary. Moreover, if she took steps to