“I hear all the theatre-gossip. I suppose it’s true?”
“Well, I don’t hear the theatre-gossip, so I don’t know whether it’s true or not. Why should you care?”
“I don’t care. I’m just curious. You know, you’ve been looking worried and unhappy ever since I first saw you—until now. At first I thought you were worried about the play; but when it was a success you looked more unhappy than ever. And now—well, the transformation is astonishing!”
“I can explain that.... You probably have in your rooms—”
“My room,” she corrected him. “A quite singular room, in every sense.”
“In your room, then, you probably have five or six copies of the Rubaiyat, presented you by different youths....”
“Yes, all with a pencil mark beside the ‘Book of Verses’ verse. Go on.”
“Well, in that poem Omar boasts of ‘striking from the Calendar Unborn Tomorrow and Dead Yesterday.’ I’ve just performed that same astronomical feat.”
“I know just what you mean,” she said. “It’s—it’s like getting over a headache, isn’t it?... I’m glad.... Well, let’s go on.”
She jumped up.