He opened his eyes in mild surprise at the force of her exclamation.
“As a matter of fact,” he said, patiently, “I do not recall taking special notice of any individual woman.... As to this matter of prettiness—what constitutes it? What assembling of features and contours create a pleasant sensation in the beholder, and why?... Perhaps you noted how I have been scrutinizing you this morning?”
“I most certainly did.”
“Um!... It was for the purpose of determining if your appearance aroused pleasant sensations in myself.”
“And did it?”
He wrinked his eyes behind his glasses and pushed stiff fingers through his hair. “It is difficult to determine with accuracy, or to state in terms the degree of pleasure derived, but I am almost certain that I derive a mild satisfaction from regarding you.”
“I—I am overwhelmed,” said Carmel, and with abruptness she passed through the wicket and out into the composing room, where she sat down in Tubal’s rope-bottomed chair, breathless with laughter.
“Oh, Tubal,” she said, “what sort of creature is he anyhow?”
“The Prof.?”
She nodded weakly.