"Not now? When do you expect to be here again?"
She came back to the present, laughing. "True; but I did not mean that; I meant that you were not the ideal companion for sea-side musing; you never meditate. I venture to say you have never quoted poetry in your life."
"No; I live my poetry," John Ash responded.
"But for a ride you are perfect; for a rush over the plain, in the teeth of the wind, I have never had any one approaching you. You are a cavalier of the gods."
"Have you had many?"
"Cavaliers?—plenty. Of the gods?—no."
"Plenty! I reckon you have," said Ash, half to himself.
"Would you wish me to have had few? You must remember that I have been in many countries and have seen many peoples. I shouldn't have appreciated you otherwise; I should have thought you dangerous—horrible! There is Isabella, who has not been in many countries; Isabella is sure that you are 'so dissipated.'"
"Dissipated!—mild term!"
"Then you acknowledge it?"