“Or from repeating the same ones—to ourselves,” said Constance.
“Yes; the most interesting ones,”
“What is most interesting?”
“Always that which we hope the most and the least expect to have,” George answered. “We are talking psychology or something very like it,” he added with a dry laugh.
“Is there any reason why we should not?” asked his companion. “Why do you laugh, Mr. Wood? Your laugh does not sound very heartfelt either.” She fixed her clear blue eyes on him for a moment.
“One rarely does well what one has not practised before an audience,” he answered. “As you suggest, there is no reason why we should not talk psychology—if we know enough about it—that is to say, if you do, for I am sure I do not. There is no subject on which it is so easy to make smart remarks.”
“Excepting our neighbour,” observed Constance.
“I have no neighbours. Who is my neighbour?” asked George rather viciously.
“I think there is a biblical answer to that question.”
“But I do not live in biblical times; and I suppose my scratches are too insignificant to attract the attention of any passing Samaritan.”