He nodded.
"What about?" he asked.
"People. About people," she smiled. She noticed his body stiffen and his eyes grow hard.
"Yes, about people," he repeated slowly.
He was cautious when he came to see her now. She had reason to make demands of him. She had given herself to him and he didn't trust her. And she was always trying to do something to him. He knew this. It was hard to understand her lately but one thing was easy—she was not to be trusted.
"How they come together in crowds," she continued evenly, "and lose themselves in a common identity. How they become a hideous, unreasoning savage—a single savage. I'm going to write a book making this savage the ... the hero."
She paused to look at him. He was inattentive but she knew better.
"You should be interested," she smiled.
"Why should I be interested?" he asked slowly.
"Because you write about people, too."