“They, of course. They, just the same, only with higher standards of perfection and better methods. It will have reached the dignity of a fine art by that time.”
All his admiration could not keep back an explosive laugh.
“You mustn’t be angry,” he said, “I think it’s splendid—as you put it.”
“Oh, I’m not angry,” returned Claudia, frankly. “One can’t expect to make people look at things from one’s own point of view in a minute. You’ve all of you a thousand prejudices to get rid of to begin with. The great point is if you wish to learn.”
“If that’s all, I want to—awfully.”
“Really?”
“I should think so!”
“Well, then, I don’t mind telling you.” She was looking gravely at him, her chin resting on her hand.
“That’s tremendously good of you.”
“Yours is a good face,” she went on calmly, with her eyes still upon him; “not clever, you know, but honest and straight. I should think you always tried to do what was right, and that you might be trusted. I’m ready to be friends, if you are.” And as she spoke, she stretched out a small white hand with a frank gesture.