"Her parrot! How odd! Hasn't she any one else to talk to?"
"Only one other—her uncle. And he doesn't understand."
"But the parrot does, I infer?"
"Thoroughly. The Tahitian parrots are very wise little birds."
Nina's laugh rippled. "It talks back, of course."
"Most certainly. One must talk back to her—even if it is only a parrot."
"And what does she talk about? What do they talk about, I mean?"
The viscount took his time answering. The pause lent emphasis to his words.
"Of me, mostly, I fancy."
"How dull it must be for them!" Nina observed, and Kneedrock's eyes, twinkled. He was really amused.