Jack Sherman gave a little click of the tongue peculiar to him, and said:
"You mean that the beautiful birds have dreadful voices; that the flowers
are scentless; that the leaves of the trees are all on edge and give no
shade; that where that beautiful carpet of blossoms is there was a
blazing quartz plain six months ago, and there's likely to be the same
again; that, in brief, it's pretty, but hollow." He made a slight
fantastic gesture, as though mocking himself for so long a speech, and
added: "Really, I didn't prepare this little oration."

She nodded, and then said: "Oh, it's not so hollow,--you would not call
it that exactly, but it's unsatisfactory."

"You have lost your illusions."

"And before that occurred you had lost yours."

"Do I betray it, then?" He laughed, not at all bitterly, yet not with
cheerfulness.

"And do you think that you have such acuteness, then, and I--" Nellie
Hayden paused, raised her eyebrows a little coldly, and let the cockatoo
bite her finger.

"I did not mean to be egotistical. The fact is I live my life alone, and
I was interested for the moment to know how I appeared to others. You
and I have been tolerably candid with each other since we met, for the
first time, three days ago; I knew you would not hesitate to say what was
in your mind, and I asked out of honest curiosity. One fancies one hides
one's self, and yet--you see!"