"Oh, I don't know," he smiled. "You look to me like a little girl who might have a good many secrets."
She shook her head. "No," she insisted, "in all the whole wide world I don't know one single thing that has to be whispered."
"No scandals?" teased the Journalist.
"No!"
"No love affairs?"
"No!"
The Journalist laughed. "Why, what do you think about all day long up in your woods?" he quizzed.
"Anglo-Saxon and Chemistry and Hindoo History and Sunsets and Mountains and Moose," she repeated glibly.
"Now you're teasing me," said the Journalist.
She nodded her head delightedly. "I'm trying to!" she smiled.