"By throwing me into the alluring company of that young man. If I love him and he doesn't love me, well, you've blighted my life. And if he loves me and I don't love him—"
"You are always talking about love," Helen said with an accent of distaste.
"I know it's not the sort of thing a young virgin should be interested in; but after all, what else can be so interesting to the Y. V.?"
"But you spoil it."
"I don't. Do you mind if I put my head on your knee? No, I'm not comfortable. That's better. It's you who spoil it with being sentimental and one-love-one-life-ish. Now for me it's a game that nymphs and goddesses might play at."
"But you can't play it alone," said Helen, troubled.
"No, that's the fun of it." She smiled against Helen's dress. "I wonder if my young man is at home yet. And there's only a cold supper for him! Dear, dear, dear!"
With her apparent obtuseness, Helen said, "It won't matter so much in the summertime."
"Ah, that's a comfort," Miriam said, and rolled her head luxuriously.
John came through the French window.