“Not at all!” she answered. “That only can be ours in whose existence our will is a factor.”
“Ha! a metaphysician too!” I remarked inside, and was silent.
“May I take what is left of the loaf?” I asked presently.
“You will want no more to-day,” she replied.
“To-morrow I may!” I rejoined.
She rose and went to the door, saying as she went,
“It has nothing to do with to-morrow—but you may take it if you will.”
She opened the door, and stood holding it. I rose, taking up the bread—but lingered, much desiring to see her face.
“Must I go, then?” I asked.
“No one sleeps in my house two nights together!” she answered.