Louise nodded breathlessly.
"She wouldn't copy me and be an egoist. And I wanted her to, rather badly, Louise. There, that's all! You're none the wiser, are you? Never mind, you will be, some day. Don't look so worried, you funny child."
"Why do you call yourself such names? You're not an egoist? You can't be," cried Louise desperately.
Clare laughed.
"Can't I? Most people are. It's not a synonym for murderess! Stop frowning, child. Why, I don't believe you know what it means even. Do you know what an egoist is, Louise?"
"Sir Willoughby Patterne!" said Louise promptly.
Clare threw up her hands.
"What next? I wish I'd had charge of you earlier. You shouldn't try so hard to say 'Humph,' little pig."
"I don't." Louise was indignant.
"Then what possesses you to steer your cockle-boat on to Meredith? Well—what do you think of him? What have you read?"