"Now you're in one of your fencing moods—there's no plain English to be got out of you."
"Fencing is useful to parry thrusts, Austin."
"Heavens, have I been making thrusts at you? You mean about that miserable Powers?"
She sat there looking at me, with the mystery smile on her lips; but her brow was knit. "Yes, about Powers," she said—after a pause, but without hesitation. The manner of her answer said plainly "Call it about Powers—it is about something else." So I think she meant me to read it. She told me that there was some trouble lest, suspecting but not knowing, I should make wild thrusts and wound her blindly.
"No one but you would put up with such an impertinent retainer," I said.
"You always stop when I want you to. And I rather like—sometimes—to try over my feelings and ideas in talk. One gets a kind of outside look at them in that way." She broke into a little laugh. "And I must keep you in a good temper, because I've a favor to ask. Are we going to be terribly busy in the immediate future?"
"I should think so—with your Institute!"
"No time for riding?" she suggested insinuatingly.
"Oh, well, one must consider one's health."
"I don't want to give up my morning ride; but I want you to come with me—well, as often as you can. Make it the regular thing to come, barring most pressing business."