“Oh, one has no personal affairs. I remember a man who was in the San Francisco earthquake telling me that for forty-eight hours he hardly needed to eat or sleep.”
“I’ve seen that doubled and trebled.”
“Of course you have. It simply means that when we get out of ourselves we can make supermen of the commonest material.”
I ventured to say: “You look happy, Regina. Are you?”
“Are you?”
I weighed this in order to answer her truthfully.
“If I’m not happy I’m—I’m content—content to be doing something—the least little bit—to urge things forward.”
“And I can say the same. If I look well, as you put it, that’s the reason. And so long as that’s the reason other things can—wait.” She added, quickly: “I must go now or I shall be late. I’m speaking to the women at the Mary Chilton Club, and I’m overdue.”
She had actually passed on when I stopped her to say, “What do you mean by the indirect method?”
She called back over her shoulder, “Ask Stephen.”