"I don't think I'm competent to answer."

"Well, I'll tell you, then. I think Byron was mistaken. My experience is,
that, when a man is in love, there's nothing else of him. That's the reason
I've kept out of it altogether of late years. My advice is, don't fall
in love: it takes too much time." They both laughed at this. "But about
corresponding, now; you haven't said whether you would write to me, or not.
Will you?"

"Can't you wait and see?" she asked, slanting a look at him, which she
could not keep from being fond.

"No, no. Unless you wrote to me I couldn't go to Chicago."

"Perhaps I ought to promise, then, at once."

"You mean that you wish me to go."

"You said that you were going. You oughtn't to let anything stand in the
way of your doing the best you can for yourself."

"But you would miss me a little, wouldn't you? You would try to miss me,
now and then?"

"Oh, you are here pretty often. I don't think I should have much difficulty
in missing you."

"Thanks, thanks! I can go with a light heart, now. Good by." He made a
pretence of rising.