'Like what so much?'
'Going on this way. I could go on for ever, for ever and ever.'
'Ah, you know it's not always like this,' I rejoined.
'Well, it's better than Boston.'
'It isn't so good as Paris,' I said, smiling.
'Oh, I know all about Paris. There is no freshness in that. I feel as if I had been there.'
'You mean you have heard so much about it?'
'Oh yes, nothing else for ten years.'
I had come to talk with Miss Mavis because she was attractive, but I had been rather conscious of the absence of a good topic, not feeling at liberty to revert to Mr. Porterfield. She had not encouraged me, when I spoke to her as we were leaving Boston, to go on with the history of my acquaintance with this gentleman; and yet now, unexpectedly, she appeared to imply (it was doubtless one of the disparities mentioned by Mrs. Nettlepoint) that he might be glanced at without indelicacy.
'I see, you mean by letters,' I remarked.