"I see," said I, not seeing anything, of course, except that, as Elizabeth once said, it's quite impossible to get a man to describe anything or anybody so that you know what they are like.
We walked on for a moment in silence, following our shadows on the goldy-green grass; evening shadows that caricatured a giant soldier man striding across the field beside a giantess of a Land Girl.
I began again:
"She might be the type of girl who honestly did not know herself whether it was 'Yes' or 'No' that she wanted to say," I said. "Some girls simply have to take lots of time to consider whether they care for the man in that way or not—even after he's asked them! They have to think things over. They have to look at the man from every point of view before they know their own minds about him. I've met that type of girl. I can't say I understand her mys——"
"Ah," he put in with a quick turn of the head, "you wouldn't be like that! You'd know at once if you could stand the man?"
"I think so," I said, a little shortly. I didn't want to be reminded of what my own views had been about "the man"—that is, Harry. They had led me into making a fool of myself. Hadn't I liked him at once, disastrously, from his first soft dark-eyed glances at me? What I was "like," myself, was not the question. Also I didn't see how it was going to help Captain Holiday.
He, on the other hand, seemed to think it might throw some light upon the subject.
"You'd know at once if it was all N. G. as far as your own feelings were concerned?" he persisted.
"At once," I agreed.
"That would save the other person a lot of trouble, of course," said the young man at my side. "I think you're right. One ought to 'know' at once, about that sort of thing. You would, you say?"