Mrs. Morris walked away, and Blanche had just fallen 272 into a deep study when she looked up and saw Ross Graves coming toward her.
“May I take a seat here?” he asked, pointing to the old log where she sat.
“Certainly,” she said, pleasantly.
“You have chosen a very quiet spot for visiting yourself, Miss Elsworth.”
“It is a lovely one,” she replied. “I enjoy this extreme quiet.”
“I suppose,” he said, smiling, “that you are never alone.”
“No,” she said, looking up and returning the smile. “I am usually surrounded with those who are holding an imaginary conversation with me.”
“And perhaps not always friendly.”
“Oh, no, my people are as varied as those in real life, and possess the warmest love and the most bitter hatred.”
“But there is a charming feature about the surrounding objects. You have them completely under your control.”