“Oh, let’s!” she suddenly exclaimed. “That would be so nice, wouldn’t it?”
“You see,” he said, glancing toward the great square, “the trouble has been that I didn’t know whether you had any heart or not. You have just been a sort of disembodied intelligence.”
“Now, listen,” she said, with a look of mild reproach. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things unpleasant. As you say, it would be better if there was another man in the class. But there isn’t likely to be. So, consequently, we will have to hit upon a reasonable modus vivendi. I think it’s really awfully nice of you to be so frank. But, really, I don’t quite understand what’s wrong. I have always just been natural, I think.”
“Perhaps. But we never took time to get acquainted,” he explained. “I know what you think about the secession of the plebs, but I have no idea what you think about Tanner, or me, or music, or friendship. I don’t know what your hobbies are, or what you think about in your spare time. I’d like to talk over these things if you ever find time.”
“That’s fine. Why shouldn’t we? Will you come over to my house for tea some day?”
“When?”
“Why—any time. Say to-morrow?”
It was agreed.