“Oh, not that kind of mad! I mean crazy, demented, loony,—what was the old King, anyway?”
“A little touched?”
“Yes, that’s it; and so, you see, he could say anything he wanted to. You know, people forgive crazy people, no matter what they say.”
“Are you going to say crazy things to me?”
“Very likely; you’ve completely turned my head.”
“Do you know, I didn’t even know King Lear ever went crazy,” said Patty in an endeavour to change the subject.
“Why, fie, fie, Little Girl, I thought you knew your Shakespeare; but I suppose you’re too busy socially to read much poetry.”
“I read one poem this winter that I liked,” said Patty, demurely.
“Did you? What was it?”