"Oh, well, you yourself are not at Medchester now," he reminded her. "You have kicked your own limitation away. Literature is as wide a field as politics."
"That is true enough," she answered. "I must not grumble. After Medchester this is elysium. But literature is a big name to give my little efforts. I'm just a helper on a lady's threepenny paper, and between you and me I don't believe they think much of my work yet."
He laughed.
"Surely they haven't been discouraging you?"
"No, they have been very kind. But they keep on assuring me that I am bound to improve, and the way they use the blue pencil! However, it's only the journalist's part they go for. The little stories are all right still.''
"I should think so," he declared, warmly. "I think they are charming."
"How nice you are," she sighed. "No wonder Selina didn't like going home."
He looked at her in amused wonder.
"Do you know," he said, "you are getting positively frivolous. I don't recognize you. I never saw such a change."
She leaned back in her chair, laughing heartily, her eyes bright, her beautiful white teeth in delightful evidence.