She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look’d down to Camelot.”
“Rather nice, isn’t it, to find that we’ve had such a cheerful effect on one another?”
“But—but why on earth should I make you think of that?”
She left off paddling and glanced away from him; a little shiver ran through her. When she spoke, her voice was low-pitched but still penetrating.
“Let me ask you a question. Do you think that it’s much fun being a girl?”
“Never thought about it.”
“Well, it isn’t.”
“I should have supposed that, for anyone who was young and good-looking, it might be barrel-loads of fun to be a girl in Oxford.”
“Well, I tell you that it isn’t. You’re always wanting and wanting—wanting the things that men have, and that only men can give you. But they keep everything for themselves because they’re like you, Mr. Barrington—they’ve never thought about it.”