"Yes, of course."
"What, for instance?"
"Whatever happens to come into my head: I never thought of remembering it afterward."
"Well, give me an instance."
Usually so confident, the girl was in a perfect flurry of embarrassment.
"Are you ashamed to tell me?"
"Not a bit; but I don't know any thing to tell."
"What did you think this morning when you were cutting the rye? What sort of thoughts went through your head?"
"Well, I must think; but you mustn't laugh at me."
"No."