“Well,” interrupted the lady, “I think, for instance, that a girl understands men better at twenty than men do women.”
“It may be,” he admitted, nodding. “I like to think about the deeper things like this sometimes.”
“So do I. I think they’re interesting,” she said with that perfect sympathy of understanding which he believed she was destined to extend to him always and in all things. “Life itself is interesting. Don’t you think so?”
“I think it’s the most interesting subject there can be. Real life, that is, though—not just on the surface. Now, for instance, you take the case of a man that’s in——”
“Do you go in much for reading?” she asked.
“Sure. But as I was saying, you take——”
“I think reading gives us so many ideas, don’t you?”
“Yes. I get a lot out of it. I——”
“I do, too. I try to read only the best things,” she said. “I don’t believe in reading everything, and there’s so much to read nowadays that isn’t really good.”
“Who do you think,” he inquired with deference, “is the best author now?”