"Does that exhaust the subjects of interest?" she asked.
"Pretty nearly. Doesn't it?"
Medora fell silent in turn,—let the light clatter of the tea things speak for her.
"Are you going to the convocation?" he presently asked again.
"Such variety!" she mocked.
"Are you?"
She hesitated.
"Yes," she said.
"That's better. Let's go together—as friends."
"Who would imagine us going as enemies?"