These conclusions were pursued at the expense of speech on my part. At first she did not appear to regard my silence. She seemed to have thoughts of her own; but she shook them off with a little firm motion of the shoulders, and, with the assumption of a demureness of manner and an airy petulance, said: “Well, amuse me.”
“Amuse you?” was my reply. “Delighted to do so if I can. How?”
“Talk to me,” was the quick response.
“Would that accomplish the purpose?” This in a tone of mock protest.
“Please don’t be foolish, Dr. Marmion. I dislike having to explain. Tell me things.”
“About what?”
“Oh, about yourself—about people you have met, and all that; for I suppose you have seen a good deal and lived a good deal.”
“About hospital cases?” I said a little maliciously.
“No, please, no! I abhor everything that is sick and poor and miserable.”
“Well,” said I, at idle venture, “if not a hospital, what about a gaol?”