"But you told me that next week, if I learned these verbs, you would let me begin to translate."
"To be sure I did. You must go on translating and translating until, like me, you ought to know better. Then you throw it all away."
"I suppose I shall understand, one of these fine days," sighed Corona. "But, uncle, you won't mind my asking a question? I really do want to find out about these things.… And I really do want to learn Latin, ever since you said it was the only way to find out all that St. Hospital means."
"Did I say that? I ought, of course, to have said that Latin was worth learning for its own sake."
"I guess," said Corona sagely, "you thought you'd take the likeliest way with me."
"O woman! woman!… But what was your question?"
"Sometimes I wake early and lie in bed thinking. I was thinking, only yesterday morning, if people are able to put into English all that was ever written in Latin, why don't they do it and save other people the trouble?"
"Now I suppose," said Brother Copas, "that in the United States of America—land of labour-saving appliances—that is just how it would strike everyone?"
He knew that this would nettle her. But, looking up hotly, she caught his smile and laughed.
"Well, but why?" she demanded.