"And how do you feel about it?" asked Teddy bluntly.
"I? Oh, I am delighted." She smiled a reminiscent little smile. "I'm a thousand times more unhappy at losing Polly, whom I hoped to have with us this year, than I am at the loss of 'the hero.' Be sure of that, Ted. I recovered from that attack long ago."
"He isn't one of the crushed illusions then?"
"No, indeed. 'When half-gods go the gods arrive.'"
Teddy climbed down from the step-ladder upon the top of which she had been sitting, and crouching on the floor close to Janet, peered interestedly up into her face. "Just what do you mean by that enigmatical speech?" she asked.
"As if I could expound Emerson to you. Seek your own solution, my dear." After which remark, Janet began to hum a popular air and returned to the unpacking of her box.
Teddy went back to the hanging of her pictures saying: "At least you are more cheerful than you were when you opened the box."
"My dear," said Janet, "even you would be aghast if you were suddenly to discover that what you thought a complete victory had turned out to be an apology for one, a defeat, as it were."
"Is that another enigma?" asked Teddy speaking with difficulty because of the projection of several nails from her mouth.
"Why, no," was the reply; "nothing could be more obvious than the fact I wish to convey to you; look at this." She held up the detached wing.