"Why do you say that--about me, I mean?" asked Morris, in a more earnest
voice.

"Oh, I don't know. Go and look at your own eyes in the glass--but
I daresay you do often enough. Look here, Morris, you think me very
silly--almost foolish--don't you?"

"I never thought anything of the sort. As a matter of fact, if you want
to know, I think you a young woman rather more idle than most, and with
a perfect passion for burying your talent in very white napkins."

"Well, it all comes to the same thing, for there isn't much difference
between fool-born and fool-manufactured. Sometimes I wake up, however,
and have moments of wisdom--as when I made you hear that thing, you
know, thereby proving that it is all right, only useless--haven't I?"

"I daresay; but come to the point."

"Don't be in a hurry. It is rather hard to express myself. What I mean
is that you had better give up staring."

"Staring? I never stared at you or anyone else, in my life!"

"Stupid Morris! By staring I mean star-gazing, and by star-gazing I mean
trying to get away from the earth--in your mind, you know."

Morris ran his fingers through his untidy hair and opened his lips to
answer.