Vera—I’m not so certain.
The Dove—Yet you have heard it.
Vera—There’s more than one hears.
The Dove—I was born on a farm——
Vera—So you say.
The Dove—I became very fond of moles—it’s so daring of them to be in the darkness underground. And then I like the open fields, too—they say there’s nothing like nature for the simple spirit.
Vera—Yes, and I’ve long had my suspicions of nature.
The Dove—Be that as it may, my brothers were fond of me—in a way, and my father in—a way—then I came to New York——
Vera—And took up the painting of china——
The Dove—Exactly. I was at that for three years, then one day I met you walking through the park, do you remember? You had a parasol, you tipped it back of your head, you looked at me a long time. Then I met Amelia, by the same high fence in the same park, and I bowed to her in an almost military fashion, my heels close together——