"And the maid--did she object to your walking close to her?--for you are other than I take you to be if you did not walk close."
"Why should she object? Am I not a man? Women rather like fools."
"How stands the pretty maid with her new mistress?"
"In high favour, if one can judge from fingers."
"Fritz, your wit resembles a tide that is for ever flowing. Favour me with your parable."
"It is a delicate point to decide where actual love commences. Have you ever considered it, Master Lamont?"
"Not deeply, fool. In my young days I was a mad-brain; you are a philosopher. Like a bee, I took what fell in my way, and did not puzzle myself or the flower with questions. Where love commences? In the heart."
"No."
"In the brain."
"No."