“You’re rather like a strange growth yourself,” he said daringly.
Mary-Clare smiled gaily.
“You’ll have to blame my old doctor for that,” she said.
“Or bless him,” Northrup broke in.
“Yes, that’s better, if it is true.”
“It’s tremendously true.”
“A book”––again that elusive push––“must be a great responsibility. Once you put your thoughts and words down and send them out––there you are!”
“Yes. Good Lord! There you are.”
“I knew that you would feel that way about it and that is why I would like to hear you talk of it. It’s a story, isn’t it?”
“Yes, a story.”